What's meant to happen will happen.
Luca kept monitoring the situation, wondering if he could carve out time to observe Richie's progress in assembling his team. As a member of the Mafia, he couldn't openly join the police force, but he could provide indirect support—just like when he took out John. That kind of "assistance" would still be logged by the system. And Luca was determined to acquire those two skills from Richie.
Eventually, the conversation shifted to John McClane.
"McClane? He's practically falling apart," David said with a shrug. "The guy spends most of his time drinking inside a church, living in total self-destruction. No one can talk him out of it."
"A church? Does he still believe?" Luca asked.
"He thinks hiding there will keep trouble from finding him."
…
That hit harder than expected.
An SSR card of that level shouldn't be reduced to that state. Even legends get wrecked by love. Hang in there, buddy.
At the same time, it was oddly reassuring. If McClane wasn't being dragged into chaos, it meant New York wasn't facing any large-scale crisis. Because when McClane gets involved, it's never small. Terrorist attacks. Citywide unrest. Catastrophes on a completely different scale. Compared to that, serial killings and drug wars are contained disasters.
When terrorism enters the picture, even anti-narcotics operations feel small.
Even Luca wasn't sure he could handle something that extreme. Maybe only an SSR like McClane—with his built-in "Die Hard" aura and relentless, lone-wolf heroism—could pull it off.
"Die hard" means refusing to quit, fighting to the bitter end, standing your ground no matter what. In cinematic terms, it's simple:
Die Hard.
Luca absolutely had to learn that skill.
Toward the end of the evening, David circled back to the case—the five victims: Gluttony, Pride, Sloth, Lust, and Greed.
The most publicly known was the actress representing "Pride." Her murder was what turned the case into a media wildfire.
The wealthiest was Rugrat, the embodiment of "Greed."
"It's a weird coincidence," David said, brow furrowed. "Two stockbrokers dead in a short span of time. One from the previous sniper case. One from this religious case. Both from Stratton Corporation. Does this killer have something against that company?"
William shook his head. "More likely the company's earned too many enemies. They've done plenty of unethical business and ruined a lot of lives."
…
These deranged killers really do seem to stick to the same company. Why not branch out?
With all these butterfly effects stacking up, it was almost impressive that the Wolf of Wall Street was still standing. To be honest, Luca was still short on the funds needed to acquire the club. He'd have to pay him a visit and secure some capital.
After a satisfying meal, the gathering finally wound down.
"David, reach out anytime you need something," Luca said warmly, shaking his hand. "In the Bronx, nothing moves without me knowing about it. You'll always have support here."
You're a criminal yourself, David thought, suppressing a grin. But out loud, he said, "The people of New York appreciate your commitment to public safety, Mr. Peace Ambassador."
Luca turned to William. "If you ever need part-time work after retirement, come see me. I can line up something that pays well."
William neither declined nor accepted. "If I ever hit rock bottom, Luca, I'll remember that offer."
After all, Luca was Mafia. And William—principled to the core—had no intention of crossing legal lines. Still, he wouldn't mind doing legitimate work someday. Even something ordinary.
They parted in separate taxis.
As Luca watched the taillights fade into the distance, a quiet melancholy settled over him.
Two more lives had shifted course because of him.
Even without Luca's interference, other butterfly effects might have altered events—just like Rugrat dying at John's hands. But in this moment, those trajectories had clearly split.
Even Luca couldn't see where they would ultimately lead.
David hadn't fallen into Wrath. His wife was alive. His career was rising.
Jimmy and Paulie hadn't been betrayed and imprisoned; instead, Henry—the traitor—was gone.
Léon and Mathilda had once been neighbors, but they never developed into something deeper—never became soulmates.
Luca didn't know what any of them would become.
And in the future, even more destinies might bend.
He, Luca, was the largest butterfly stirring the storm.
Suddenly, he felt a hand slip into his.
He looked down. Mathilda was staring up at him, eyes full of concern.
"Luca, you seem a little down. Are you sad they left?"
She tightened her grip. "They're gone. I'm still here."
Luca crouched to meet her eyes and smiled. "When the future becomes unpredictable, it's natural to feel unsteady. But your big brother can handle himself. I'll manage whatever comes next."
He rarely let his guard down. Assassins survive by staying solitary and careful. But in that moment, with Mathilda, he didn't hide.
Looking into his clear eyes, Mathilda felt closer to him than ever. For once, the mystery around the Mafia thinned. A layer of fog peeled back.
She smiled, eyes crinkling, and patted his shoulder with exaggerated seriousness.
"Life's always uncertain, isn't it? Nobody can predict what's coming. Before I met you, I never imagined I'd escape that nightmare of a family. You pulled me out and gave me a new life.
"I'm really happy now. Truly. I treasure what I have. Luca, you did something incredible. To me, you're the greatest man in the world."
Smack!
She kissed him on the cheek.
"That's my vote of confidence. Whatever you do next, I know you'll succeed."
"Wow. My Lady Luck just blessed me. I should buy a lottery ticket."
"Use my birthday! We'll definitely win!"
Luca grinned and mentally noted it down: December 25th. Christmas Day.
Still a long way off. It was only early May.
Speaking of which, summer break was coming up.
"Where do you want to go for vacation? I'll take you to another city."
"I want to follow you and become Mafia."
…
Luca paused. This kid never quits.
He crouched and grabbed her shoelaces.
"Your laces are untied. Let me fix them."
Mathilda absentmindedly ruffled his hair as if he were a pet and spoke dreamily.
"Someday I want to be like you. Respected everywhere I go. What should my nickname be? You're Luca the Pigeon. I'll be Lucky Mathilda. Sounds good, right? Peace plus Luck."
"Not bad."
Luca stood, offered his hand like a ballroom partner.
"All right then, Lucky Mathilda. Let's test that luck."
She stepped forward—
And immediately tripped.
He had tied her laces together.
As she stumbled, Luca swept her up in one smooth motion and hoisted her onto his back.
She tugged his hair.
"You're so immature. Always messing with me."
"Guess your luck ran out."
"But I didn't fall. I knew you'd catch me."
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Luca… the luckiest thing that ever happened to me was meeting you."
He froze for a second.
It suddenly dawned on him: to her, he had appeared like fate itself.
Oh.
So that's how Lucky Aura works.
He smiled quietly.
"The day I met you was my lucky day too."
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Btw, i'm on leave at Sunday, so no chapters.