With a clear strategy and solid intelligence, the narcotics task force was finally ready to launch targeted strikes. Undercover operations, informants, wiretaps, surveillance, defections, and coordinated drug raids—every tool at their disposal—were deployed against Frank's drug cartel.
Richie and David proved exceptionally efficient. Both were capable officers armed with precise intelligence; it was almost as if they had preternatural vision, their actions sharp and deliberate.
By late June, Frank was facing an unprecedented wave of surgical strikes against drug dens across the East Coast, with New York City suffering the heaviest blows. Numerous stash houses were shut down, and multiple distributors were caught red-handed in the middle of transactions. The war on drugs had advanced at lightning speed.
Frank quickly realized that the police had locked onto him. He noticed more officers staking out his operations. When Mad went out for breakfast one morning, it felt as though plainclothes cops were everywhere, watching and tailing him. Frank even began to suspect that the street vendors nearby were undercover officers.
He couldn't understand how the police operation had become so precise. Aside from his closest family associates, no one knew many of the hideouts or transportation routes. How did the police know? Was there a mole?
It wasn't just law enforcement closing in. The Bonanno family, who had their own sources of intelligence, also began taking quiet action. Under pressure from multiple fronts, Frank's situation deteriorated rapidly.
It felt as if the sky had collapsed, leaving him disoriented. For now, no one could touch the military supply channels, and his core routes remained intact. But with both the police and the Bonanno family constantly watching him, doing business had become increasingly difficult. If this continued, ruin was inevitable.
Inside a manor in New York—
"You said you could guarantee my safety! That's what you promised when we first partnered up!" Frank slammed his fist on the table, shouting at Dominic. "The police have already arrested several distributors and interrupted multiple deals! They're staking out my house with cameras, harassing me day and night! I'm not safe at all!"
Dominic inwardly scoffed at the man in front of him. An upstart. And they dared imitate the Italian organizational structure? What they copied was a mess. Their internal discipline was loose, intelligence had leaked, and now they were blaming the Mafia?
"Frank," Dominic said calmly, a cigar between his fingers as smoke curled around his face, "the person who betrayed you could be one of your own men. Or maybe it's an official you forgot to pay. Perhaps you offended someone without realizing it. And don't forget the competitors you pushed out of the market. Success breeds enemies."
He fixed Frank with a sharp look. "Your success is exactly what's destroying you. What do you plan to do—retire? Walk away? I told you from the beginning, if we want to succeed, we'll make enemies. That's why we need to make more friends."
"But we can't make everyone our friend," Frank replied, his anger fading into grim frustration. "Your Mafia isn't some perfectly unified machine. Ever since I took Carmine Galante's business, his family has been trying to wipe me out. I have every reason to suspect the Bonanno family is behind this."
"That tightfisted Galante?" Dominic sneered. "You forced him out of the market entirely. Of course he's not happy. Don't worry—someone will have a word with him. The real issue is the police. This crackdown caught me off guard. The NYPD has usually respected certain… arrangements. Where did this group of officers who refuse to play by the rules come from?"
"I'd like to know that too." Frank exhaled sharply through his nostrils. Damn it. I've paid off half the precinct. Which officer is this stubborn? I've thrown around hundreds of millions—are they all useless?
Seeing Frank's fury, Dominic's mood darkened. He didn't want Frank to fall. If Frank went to prison, Dominic's drug profits would collapse, and the New York market would return to Carmine Galante's control.
Dominic knew Galante was more eager than the police to see Frank behind bars. If necessary, Galante would even cooperate with law enforcement to eliminate him. That man preferred to monopolize profits and refused to share the drug trade. As a former drug kingpin of New York, Galante would never work with Frank. He barely cooperated with other Mafia families—why would he share the market with Frank?
A cold glint flashed in Dominic's eyes. Galante was drifting further from the other Four Families. That kind of division threatened Mafia unity. Dominic was already forming a plan.
But another question lingered: who had leaked the intelligence on Frank?
—
_______________________________________________________________________
Ding! You secretly provided information, assisting the police in dismantling multiple drug dens across New York. You helped law enforcement safeguard the city.
[Gain Skill Points +30]
[Gain Skill Fragment +20]
[Body Flexibility +5%]
[Remaining Skill Fragments: 98]
________________________________________________________________________
In the club's top-floor office, Luca studied the system panel with satisfaction. Frank hadn't even been taken down yet, and the incidental rewards were already substantial. He had merely supplied some intelligence and reaped the benefits.
A solid haul.
Once Frank was arrested, the police department would undergo a reshuffle. That would be an opportunity to make serious money. And when Dominic eventually fell from power, Luca's chance to rise would come.
Turning toward the blackboard, Luca's eyes settled on a photo pinned in the corner—a man labeled "Jimmy." Frank's cousin.
Luca picked up a marker and drew a bold X across Jimmy's face. In the original storyline, Jimmy had been flipped by the police.
"Let me stir the pot," Luca murmured.
—
Three nights later.
A detached house in the Bronx—home of Frank's cousin, known as "Jimmy Zee."
A short distance from the property, David sat in his car, binoculars trained on the front gate.
"Every time I stake out this guy, I'm reminded of that kid from the Dove Crew—also named Jimmy," Richie said with a grin.
"Because they're both named Jimmy?" David laughed. "Seriously, why are there so many Jimmys in this world?"
Richie chuckled awkwardly. There were plenty of Davids too.
He reviewed the intelligence report again. It detailed tensions between Jimmy and Frank, even documenting a public humiliation. The report mapped out relationships across the entire organization.
Richie immediately saw an opening. A strained relationship meant a higher probability of flipping him. If Jimmy could be developed as an informant, they could secure more evidence—possibly even documentation on transportation channels. With a proper evidentiary chain, they could apply for a warrant to search military aircraft.
"I wish we could catch Jimmy soon," David muttered. "He's careful. We've tailed him for days and still haven't pinned anything on him."
"He's an addict," Richie said patiently. "Be patient. Addicts have weak willpower. Sooner or later, he'll slip."
—
At the next intersection, another group waited.
Sonny Black, Old Lefty, Donnie, and several others had gathered with a crew.
"Our target is Jimmy—Frank's cousin," Sonny Black said coldly, checking his pistol. "He's got product at home. We storm in and take it. I already cleared it with Dove beforehand, so we're not stepping on territory. We're preserving the peace."
Donnie was speechless. Preserving the peace?
Old Lefty clapped Donnie on the shoulder. "You're driving tonight. We'll handle the rest."
Sonny Black glanced at Donnie but didn't object.
Donnie nodded. "Just don't make me kill anyone."
—
Half a block behind them, another car sat parked.
Luca and Leon, both in black trench coats and sunglasses, watched from inside.
"Tonight's going to be lively," Luca said, a smile playing at his lips.
He opened the system panel.
[Bond: Friends]
After a long period of interaction, their bond had finally reached the Friend level. But SSR skills were notoriously difficult to unlock. At this level, he could learn only one ability: [Silver Queen].
He would need to cultivate a Silver Queen plant.
Fine.
From tomorrow onward, the club would be filled with Silver Queen plants—wall to wall. Anyone who walked in would feel their negative emotions soothed. It would become a sanctuary of calm.
"Leon, my club opens next month," Luca said casually. "I'm planning to fill it with Silver Queens. I'll start planting tomorrow. I heard you're good with them—come by and give me some advice."
"You—"
"Tony told me," Luca shrugged. "He said the Silver Queen is important to you. Like a quiet friend who doesn't speak."
"Tony seems to tell you everything."
"That's not important. The Silver Queen is."
Leon's eyes lit up. "They require careful care. Proper temperature and humidity. Plenty of sunlight in winter, but no direct sun in summer. You'll have to move them often. If you're filling the entire club, you'll need a dedicated staff to maintain them."
"Perfect," Luca said. "I'll create a new role—Head of Horticulture. It's ideal for you. If you double as head of security, I'll pay you double."
Leon fell silent.
If even one good friend required such careful attention, how difficult would it be to look after dozens?
Just then, they noticed a group of police vehicles turning the corner toward Jimmy's house. Leading them was the corrupt cop Truber.
"The cast is in place," Luca said, raising an eyebrow. "Leon, go give them a little more screen time."
The .45 caliber pistol modification will be completed and released shortly.
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