Brian watched helplessly as the tow truck pulled away with his little green car—the tow truck Aurelio had called to repair the vehicle.
One second they had been arrogant and demanding, and the next they were offering to fix the car.
In Los Angeles, you would never find a deal that good.
Brian suddenly felt incredibly awesome… no, to be precise, his Boss identity felt incredibly awesome.
Following Dove of Peace meant he would never go hungry for three straight days.
"Dove! I'm really fine, just a few minor scratches."
Brian called Luca to let him know he was alright.
"That kid Iosef Tarasov tried to ram me off the track, but I swerved the car and avoided it. His own car flew off like a rocket."
Listening to Brian brag endlessly about his glorious achievements, Luca thought to himself:
Your aura is seriously overpowered. A tank could run over your car and you'd still crawl out alive.
"Come early tomorrow to take Mathilda to school," Luca said.
"But Dove… my car is gone."
"That's why I told you to come earlier and drive my GTR."
"I promise I'll be there an hour early!!"
---
Little Russia
The leader of the Tarasov gang was named Viggo Tarasov.
After years of struggling in New York, he had built a respectable family business through his own abilities and connections.
Although they weren't as powerful as the Italian Mafia families, they were still considered a small tyrant within New York's underworld.
Over the years, Viggo often felt that the smartest decision he had ever made was recruiting John Wick, also known as Baba Yaga.
He once watched Baba Yaga kill three men in a bar with nothing but a pencil.
A pencil!
Viggo had been completely stunned.
He immediately decided to recruit the young man into his organization.
After all, they were both Russians. Fellow countrymen helping each other was only natural.
And as it turned out, Viggo had been absolutely right.
The rise of the Tarasov gang in Mafia-dominated New York owed a great deal to Baba Yaga.
The terrifying Baba Yaga was practically invincible.
This time, however, the gang had encountered another small problem.
Viggo picked up his phone.
"I heard my son was in a car accident and is currently in the hospital. Yet you let the man responsible walk away, Aurelio. I need an explanation."
"The other party belongs to the Butcher."
"The Butcher's people?"
"To be precise, it's someone the Butcher personally vouched for."
"Oh."
Viggo paused.
His expression went blank, and for a moment he didn't know what to say.
There were many people in the Mafia world you absolutely shouldn't provoke.
And the Butcher was definitely one of them.
"I've already reached an agreement with the Butcher to maintain peace," Aurelio said.
"Viggo, let's just leave it at that. There's no need to cause trouble for the Butcher. We don't have the leverage, and we won't gain anything."
"Well… peace should come first."
After hanging up the phone, Viggo stood silently on the balcony for a long time.
The city stretching out before him—sleeping beneath the darkness—made him feel uneasy and resentful.
When will I finally become the king of New York?
The greatest obstacle preventing the Tarasov gang from taking control of the city wasn't the Continental Hotel.
It was the Five Major Mafia Families.
The Continental never directly participated in gang wars.
As long as assassins didn't conduct business inside the hotel, they didn't care how many people were killed outside.
The Mafia was the true ruler of New York.
But how could a Russian gang overthrow five deeply entrenched families?
Facing so many powerful enemies, it seemed almost impossible.
"Perhaps only Baba Yaga could accomplish something like that…"
Even Viggo didn't feel particularly confident.
Baba Yaga was incredibly powerful, but he was still just one solitary assassin.
The idea of one man taking on five Mafia families sounded ridiculous.
There were simply too many enemies.
And the opposing side even had someone like the Butcher.
Thinking of this, Viggo called his second-in-command and asked about Baba Yaga's recent activities.
Baba Yaga rarely appeared.
Some members of the gang didn't even know he existed.
He was like a shadow—appearing only when needed.
Deputy: "John has been getting pretty close to a woman named Helen lately."
Viggo: "???"
Did he hear that correctly?
Baba Yaga… that cold-blooded killer… involved with a woman?
"Is she an assassin? One of John's colleagues?"
Viggo remembered that Baba Yaga had female assassin colleagues.
"No. She's a photographer."
The deputy looked at him strangely.
"In my experience, John is definitely pursuing her. I've never seen him this interested in any woman before."
"…."
Damn.
He's in love.
Viggo looked utterly bewildered.
His greatest trump card had fallen in love.
What the hell was this?
For the time being, maintaining peace with the Mafia seemed like the right move.
It wasn't the right time to start a war.
But that day might not be far away.
Love could blind a person.
But it could also make them fearless… and invincible.
---
After Luca returned home, he made an international phone call to Ma Hon Keung.
The conversation went relatively smoothly.
Because of his trust in Uncle Bill, Keung was very enthusiastic toward Luca.
When he learned that Luca wanted to help him open a martial arts school in New York, Keung showed some interest—though he also had some concerns.
After all, he didn't know Luca very well, and it was a faraway foreign country.
However, since he would be traveling to the United States anyway for Uncle Bill's wedding, meeting Luca beforehand wouldn't hurt.
He told Luca that he would come to the U.S. as soon as he finished his current work.
Luca said he would personally pick him up at the airport.
Done.
Luca felt more confident now.
The more powerful cards he held, the easier it would be to face future challenges.
A Godfather needed an invincible team under his command.
---
The following day, Luca and Jimmy traveled to Brooklyn.
When they arrived, Aurelio was lying beneath a car repairing it.
Suddenly he noticed the light dim, as several shadows fell across him.
Aurelio sighed.
"I'm just an honest guy running a repair shop… and occasionally racing cars."
"Gas stations?"
After chatting for a while, Aurelio became somewhat interested—but also suspicious.
How did the Butcher know they were involved in gasoline tax evasion?
The Tarasov gang did participate in it, though only on a small scale.
Their real money came from oil import-export taxes.
It was extremely profitable.
However, the Russians lacked the connections to obtain the necessary licenses.
"Dove, you seem to know this business very well."
Aurelio placed his glass on the hood and poured Luca another drink.
Jimmy stood to the side and listened quietly.
Aurelio asked carefully,
"You want in on this too?"
"You're the one who needs my help," Luca replied calmly.
"Only through cooperation can we grow bigger and stronger."
Aurelio remained silent.
After a short conversation, he realized Luca truly understood the business.
But a deal this large was beyond his authority.
"Let me take you to meet my boss. He handles this business."
"Viggo?"
"Abram, Viggo's brother."
Luca nodded without objection.
Viggo's younger brother was the only direct Tarasov family member who survived in the original timeline.
Aurelio brought Luca and Jimmy to a car factory.
All stolen cars—after being laundered by Aurelio—were temporarily stored here.
Including one that would eventually belong to Baba Yaga.
Everyone knew two universal rules:
Never kill a dog.
And never touch Baba Yaga's car.
In fact, it was safer not to touch anything Baba Yaga cared about.
Abram Tarasov was also an extremely shrewd man.
In the original timeline, after learning that his brother and nephew had been killed by Baba Yaga, Abram chose not to fight.
Instead, he sought peace.
Even if it was forced peace.
Facing the Butcher—and the mountain of gold he represented—Abram couldn't think of a reason to refuse.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone could just make money peacefully?
However, the two sides couldn't agree on how to divide the profits.
The Mafia could provide licenses, wholesale companies, transportation networks, gasoline logistics, and even government connections.
But the Russians had their own advantages.
First, they were willing to take the blame if things went wrong.
Second, they controlled oil tanker smuggling and a "shadow fleet."
These Russians blended illegally obtained oil with crude oil from other sources, disguising it as mixed petroleum for export.
They obscured the origin of the oil and used Russian-owned insurance and shipping companies to bypass international maritime regulations.
In neighboring Massachusetts, especially near Boston, the Russians were making huge profits.
Abram explained vaguely, but Luca was still quite shocked.
These old Russian foxes were playing a very big game.
However, their networks were still too weak.
Large-scale Russian immigration only began in the 1970s.
They couldn't compete with the Mafia's deeply rooted connections.
Especially in New York.
The ports were firmly under Mafia control.
Luca silently realized he had found a very interesting partner.
They already smuggled oil.
If he built a few refineries, he could easily dominate the entire chain.
"We're discussing gasoline tax, not your oil imports," Luca said, shaking his head.
"Do you think I expect a share of your oil profits?"
"If that's the case, I can give up part of my gasoline tax profits too."
"I can't control the oil business," Abram said, shaking his head.
The Tarasov gang was merely a partner.
Behind the oil trade stood the Russian Mafia—powerful figures with seats at the High Table.
The Tarasov gang was more like an American branch on the East Coast.
Meanwhile, the American Mafia remained centered in New York.
The two sides were not equal.
"I can concede further," Abram continued.
"I can give you a larger share of the gasoline tax profits."
"But you must help our family solve one problem."
"You could show a little… flexibility… toward us Russians at the ports of New York and New Jersey."
"What do you think?"
"It would also help the gasoline tax business."
"We could sell that oil to your Italian refineries at a lower price."
Luca remained expressionless.
But inside, he was extremely excited.
If this succeeded, it would create a regional monopoly.
The federal government wouldn't collect a single cent in taxes.
The profits would be astronomical.
Originally, gasoline tax evasion alone produced five-to-eight-figure weekly profits.
Now it might reach eight figures every week.
Part of the money would go to the family network.
Part would go to the Russians.
But Luca would still keep a massive share for himself.
"You want access to the port?"
Luca smiled.
"Do you know which family controls it the most?"
"The Gambino family controls the dockworkers' union," Abram said angrily.
"They constantly cause us trouble."
The ports of New York and New Jersey were essentially controlled by the Gambino family.
Only Boston in the north remained relatively untouched.
Luca thought for a moment, then smiled.
"I can solve that problem."
"But you must send someone to help me."
"We'll face any trouble together."
"You expect us to interfere in the internal affairs of your major families?"
"Just offering help."
"…Alright."
Abram raised an eyebrow and glanced at Aurelio.
"I'll have Aurelio assist you."
"That's not enough."
"I need one more person."
"Who?"
"John Wick."
Baba Yaga.
The moment Luca spoke those words, a chill ran down everyone's spine.
Aurelio's face turned pale.
"You two angels of death working together…"
"Are you planning to sink the entire port?"
"Or are you planning to reclaim land from the ocean?"
================================================================================
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