That night, using the evidence and clues John Doe had left inside his apartment, the police quickly located the remaining victims.
Five in total.
Besides the obese man symbolizing "Gluttony" and the murdered model symbolizing "Pride," there were three others: Rugrat, representing "Greed"; a drug dealer, representing "Sloth"; and a prostitute, representing "Lust."
Rugrat and the prostitute were already dead.
Rugrat's death was comparatively swift—his throat had been slit cleanly—but an excessive amount of blood had been deliberately drained from his body.
The prostitute's death was far more grotesque. A man had been forced to wear a device fitted with metal blades and bayonet-like protrusions. Under coercion, he was made to violate her, ultimately killing her in a twisted ritualistic execution meant to embody "Lust."
The drug dealer, however, was still alive—if that condition could still be called living.
He had been tied to a bed and tortured for over a year. His body was covered in festering sores. His tongue had been cut out. He had been injected repeatedly with different narcotics. His sanity had long since collapsed.
Every murder John Doe designed carried a perverse ritualistic aesthetic, each carefully corresponding to one of the Seven Deadly Sins.
After witnessing those scenes, William Somerset felt even more certain that Luca's decision had been correct. If a man like John Doe had managed to escape through an insanity plea, New York would have been dragged into an endless nightmare.
Back at the precinct, David Mills stormed in furiously after an exhausting night.
"That madman actually targeted me!"
He waved the evidence bag containing the photographs.
"He labeled me 'Wrath'? What the fuck? He actually thinks I embody the original sin of anger?"
William remained silent.
He looked at the photo in David's hand, then at David's visibly agitated expression.
Objectively speaking… John Doe's judgment was not entirely inaccurate.
David did have a temper.
After venting for a while, David gradually calmed down.
"Somerset," he asked, "who do you think killed John Doe? Who sent you that letter?"
William shook his head. "We couldn't even find Doe ourselves. How would we identify the person who killed him?"
"I'm guessing it was Greco," David said confidently. "That guy has instincts like a bloodhound. He notices clues we miss. And he knows this case inside and out."
"Don't speculate without evidence," William replied calmly. "And even if it was him—what would you do?"
David suddenly grinned.
"Buy him the best bottle of whiskey in New York and treat him to dinner. He helped us catch the murderer. More importantly—the murderer is dead. I'd call that well done."
His expression darkened again.
"I can't imagine what would've happened if that son of a bitch lawyer had succeeded in getting Doe off with an insanity defense. Doe had my photo. My address. Photos of my wife. He had everything. My privacy was completely exposed."
The more David thought about it, the more unsettled he became. After seeing those horrific crime scenes, he couldn't bear imagining what John Doe might have done to him or Tracy.
Fortunately, the murderer was dead.
William felt a chill as he watched David's shaken expression. Though his own photo had not appeared in John Doe's collection, he suddenly felt as if his own privacy was equally fragile.
"It's not just the FBI," William sighed quietly. "Police departments do it too. Some media outlets pay for information. They even pay exorbitant prices for private data."
He paused.
"The law in this country emphasizes privacy. In reality, none of us truly have it."
David muttered a few more curses under his breath.
After a moment, William said calmly, "Mills, the case is over. I'm retiring in a few days."
David nodded regretfully. "It's a shame. I haven't worked with you long."
"I'm retiring, not dying," William replied with a faint smile. "One piece of advice: don't act impulsively. Stay rational."
"I will."
"And don't offend people casually. Or you might end up like Roberts."
"Roberts?" David blinked.
The honest officer who returned lost money was now completely isolated. No one wanted to partner with him. No one wanted to support him. His promotion prospects were practically nonexistent.
Richie Roberts himself knew exactly how bad things had become. During one dangerous operation where backup never arrived, he understood just how alone he was.
He nearly resigned.
For now, he continued drawing his modest salary while preparing for the bar exam, planning to leave the force after passing.
Three days later, a senior DEA official from Washington contacted him.
Standing before the New York skyline, the official scoffed, "The world's greatest city has turned into a filthy sewer. Petty crime everywhere. Drugs flooding the streets."
He turned to Richie. "I hear Times Square has a new nickname—'Crappy Time Square'?"
Richie neither confirmed nor denied it. "It's not an inaccurate description."
The official sighed.
"You upheld your integrity and paid for it. But men like you are exactly what we need."
He extended the offer plainly.
"The DEA is launching a serious anti-narcotics campaign. I want you to lead operations here. You'll report directly to me and federal prosecutors."
"You choose your own team. Your own office."
He paused.
"I only have one requirement: find someone who would turn in money found on the street."
Richie laughed softly. "You're asking for a rare breed. I turned in a million dollars, not a hundred."
That same day, the NYPD held a press conference announcing the closure of the Seven Deadly Sins case. The perpetrator was dead. Evidence had been secured.
At the press conference, William Sr. also officially announced his retirement due to old age. This left many New Yorkers feeling disappointed, as the police department had lost a brilliant detective.
Special commendation was given to William Somerset and David Mills.
Afterward, William privately mentioned to his superior that a "concerned citizen" had provided crucial assistance.
"You don't mean the Mafia?" the superior asked carefully.
William answered calmly, "They helped."
Silence followed.
"The murderer as well?"
"We don't know," William said evenly. "There's no proof."
__________________________________________________________________________
Ding! You assisted the NYPD in solving the Seven Deadly Sins case, stabilizing public panic and maintaining order.
[Skill Points +20]
[Skill Fragments +10]
[Cell Lifespan Extended]
[Theoretical Lifespan +6 Months]
[Current Skill Fragments: 67]
__________________________________________________________________________
Luca was extremely satisfied.
Not only had he eliminated John Doe, he had also gained long-term rewards.
An increase in lifespan.
Six additional months.
That was priceless.
That evening, retired Detective William Somerset and Detective David Mills visited Luca for dinner.
Luca brought Matilda and introduced her.
After the meal, Luca glanced at his system interface.
[Bond: Friends — David Mills]
With the bond requirement met, a new exchange option appeared.
__________________________________________________________________________
[Exchange Cost: 50 Skill Fragments]
[Skill: Sin of Wrath]
– Effect: The higher your rage level, the greater your combat strength.
– Maximum Combat Power Increase: +20%.
– Activation Condition: Emotional escalation during combat.
[Confirm Exchange?]
[Yes/No]
"Yes"
[Exchange Successful]
[Skill Acquired: Sin of Wrath]
[Remaining Skill Fragments: 17]
New skill obtained!
__________________________________________________________________________
Unlocked the "Berserker Luca" form — and no, it doesn't turn green when it gets angry.
The group ate and chatted, drifting from family and daily life to work and the city's endless chaos. Luca casually steered the conversation toward Richie Roberts and McClane, but the answer he received caught him off guard.
"Roberts is having a really hard time right now," William said with a quiet sigh. "Everyone's started calling him 'Honesty.' And you know that's not praise — it's ridicule."
There was nothing William could do to change the situation. At best, he could refuse to join the noise, refuse to add another shove to someone already standing on the edge.
Luca was genuinely startled.
This wasn't funny at all.
They had no idea how powerful the [Honest and Reliable] skill truly was. That ability was exceptional. But from the sound of it, although Richie was being ostracized now, it was only a matter of time before his unprecedented act of "handing the money over to the state" drew the attention of serious players.
Once Richie joined the DEA and completed the formation of his narcotics task force, the war on drugs would officially begin.
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Btw, i'm on leave at Sunday, so no chapters.