New York Police Department.
Since the war on drugs began, the atmosphere inside the police department has improved considerably.
The most obvious improvement is that no police officer dares to sell drugs anymore, nor do they dare to openly accept bribes from drug dealers.
Previously, anyone who did this either ended up in jail or got dragged into endless legal trouble.
During that entire controversy, David Mills became the biggest beneficiary.
He was promoted and received a raise, becoming a police chief in one fell swoop.
He and his pregnant wife moved out of their tiny apartment—one that constantly shook every time the subway passed—and into a more comfortable, beautiful neighborhood.
"McClane!"
David found John McClane, who was lazily slacking off at his workstation.
"Come on. You're coming with me to the Bronx. There's a case over there."
Although McClane had been reinstated, his family life was still a complete mess.
His work, however, had improved significantly. At the very least, he was no longer as depressed as before.
McClane yawned.
"What case?"
"A gas station got vandalized by gangsters."
David shrugged.
"That's the Dove of Peace's territory. How dare someone cause trouble on his turf? Let's go take a look. While we're at it, we can stop by his club."
"He'll definitely have a solution."
McClane stared at him in disbelief.
When something like this happens, the first thing you think about is the Dove of Peace?
Are you expecting the Mafia to help solve police cases?
"Let's go."
McClane stood up quickly.
"It's been a while since I've visited his club."
"I really like the atmosphere there. The drinks are pretty good too."
David rolled his eyes.
"You just want free alcohol."
"That's because I have a membership."
McClane reached into his pocket and pulled out an SSR Club card.
---
Putting everything else aside, the Dove of Peace was incredibly generous in this regard.
With this card, McClane could basically drink for free whenever he visited.
Honestly, he felt a little embarrassed about how much free alcohol he had already gotten from Luca.
Every time he swore he wouldn't go back.
But whenever he had another fight with his wife…
He inevitably ended up sitting in that club again, drinking quietly for a while.
It was comfortable there.
And somehow, the world didn't feel so terrible.
The two officers quickly gathered several policemen and headed to the crime scene.
They interviewed the employees and the owner, recorded statements, and began investigating what had happened.
The gas station that had been attacked belonged to Tim, one of the first station owners to start buying gasoline from the Russians.
Tim's previous supplier had been Mobil.
At first, the Russians had been extremely aggressive.
They went door-to-door selling gasoline at absurdly low prices in a very crude manner.
No matter what Mobil's wholesale price was, the Russian price would always be ten cents cheaper.
Tim was tempted.
At first, he bought one truckload per day.
Then five or six truckloads per day.
Eventually, he completely abandoned Mobil and switched entirely to Russian gasoline.
All the gas stations in his chain began using the cheaper fuel.
With aggressive price cuts, no other gas station in the area could compete with him.
If others lowered their prices…
Tim would slash his even more.
But unhealthy market competition inevitably leads to conflict.
And the gas station owners in the Bronx all had various social connections behind them.
"Those shameless bastards!"
Tim angrily complained to David and McClane.
"Officer, I swear it was those gas stations next door."
"They even sent people to threaten me!"
"They told me to raise my prices again or they'd smash up my shop!"
"I refused—and those bastards actually went through with it!"
"They want you to raise prices?"
David looked confused.
"How cheap are you selling your gas anyway?"
He glanced at the price board.
Then he froze.
"Holy shit… it's that cheap?"
"Now I kind of understand why you got beaten up."
"I haven't seen gas this cheap all year."
The price had already dropped to $1.16 per gallon.
McClane was stunned as well.
These greedy gas station owners usually treated gasoline like illegal drugs.
When had they ever lowered prices this much?
Tim looked speechless.
"Am I wrong for lowering prices to benefit the public?"
"Why are you police officers acting like I deserved it?"
Just then Tim's phone rang.
After answering it briefly, he turned to the officers.
"Officer, I have something urgent to deal with."
"Call me anytime if you need my assistance."
He jumped into his car and drove off.
David exchanged a glance with McClane.
"Let's check the other gas stations."
They left a few officers behind to handle the aftermath.
Then they visited several nearby gas stations.
Although those stations had lowered their prices slightly, they were still a few cents higher than Tim's.
But when they tried to speak with the owners…
None of them were there.
After asking around, they discovered something surprising.
All of them had gone to the SSR Club.
David immediately understood.
"Looks like the Dove of Peace moved faster than we did."
McClane grinned.
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"Let's go to the club."
---
SSR Club – Reception Room.
Aside from Tim, the other gas station owners sat nervously in front of Luca, who occupied the main seat.
They knew why they had been called here.
But they had no idea how things would end.
After all, the Mafia didn't follow legal procedures.
They didn't play by courtroom rules.
If they decided you were responsible…
You paid the price.
The only reassuring thing was that they were dealing with the Dove of Peace, a man famous for valuing harmony above everything else.
"Dove of Peace!"
One owner spoke first.
"We've been pushed to the brink!"
"Tim is recklessly disrupting market order and maliciously lowering prices!"
"He broke the rules and started this fight!"
"How can you run a business like that?"
"We all live in the same neighborhood!"
"Gas prices are set collectively based on established standards!"
"Lowering prices arbitrarily destroys the peace!"
"Dove of Peace, we're willing to prioritize harmony!"
"But Tim isn't!"
Several gas station owners began accusing Tim together.
Tim wasn't the type to stay quiet.
He shot back angrily.
"Besides you idiots, every resident in the Bronx supports my price cuts!"
"If you have the guts, lower your prices too!"
"I swear my prices will always be lower than yours!"
"You sell for $1.20, I'll sell for $1.10."
"You sell for $1.00, I'll sell for $0.80."
"I'll keep cutting prices until every one of you goes bankrupt!"
"What right do you have to compete with me?"
"Either accept the current situation and stabilize your prices…"
"Or if you insist on competing with me, don't blame me for getting rude!"
The argument immediately exploded again.
Luca watched the entire show calmly from the side.
He thought quietly to himself.
You guys can cut prices all you want.
My wholesale price isn't changing anyway.
So why bother?
He suddenly slapped the table.
The loud sound instantly silenced the room.
Every pair of eyes turned toward him.
"I don't care how you run your businesses."
"I only have one request."
"Don't cause trouble on my turf."
Luca stared coldly at the owners responsible for the attack.
"Who gave you the guts to hire gangsters to smash someone's shop?"
"Is this your first day doing business in the Bronx?"
"Or your first time hearing about my rules?"
The bosses forced awkward smiles.
Despair slowly crept into their hearts.
If the Dove of Peace supported Tim…
Then no matter how hard they resisted, they would eventually go bankrupt.
"I'm sorry, Dove"
One owner lowered his head first.
"We were wrong."
"I'm willing to compensate Tim for the damage."
The others looked at each other, sighed, and followed his lead.
"But…"
One owner gritted his teeth.
"You have to leave us a way out."
"You've always advocated harmony."
"How are we supposed to survive this time?"
"Tim will drive us bankrupt sooner or later!"
Luca smiled.
"This problem is actually very simple."
"You can use the same gasoline Tim is using."
"He gets it from the Russians."
"Why can't you?"
"If we could do that, we already would have."
One owner shook his head.
"We have contracts with ExxonMobil."
He explained a long list of regulations.
Basically, all their gas stations used ExxonMobil gasoline.
Prices fluctuated together under synchronized policies.
Tim importing gasoline from the Russians technically violated the ExxonMobil agreement.
Luca nodded thoughtfully.
Then he asked curiously.
"Those gangsters who attacked the gas station…"
"Were they hired by Mobil?"
"Or did you hire them yourselves?"
Luca wasn't worried about the gas station owners calling gangsters.
He was far more violent than they were.
But if a giant corporation like ExxonMobil had started this…
Then Luca might need to send John Wick or Leon to have a friendly conversation with some executives.
After all—
The Mafia hadn't even used violence yet.
They had only started a price war.
And these corporations were already playing dirty?
The bosses looked extremely uncomfortable.
Luca didn't ask further.
The answer was obvious.
Both the gas station owners and Mobil were involved.
"I will give you an explanation for this matter."
"But today…"
"I only want peace."
Luca's gaze swept across the room.
"You know what to do about Tim's damages and the injured workers."
The bosses nodded helplessly.
In the end, they shook hands with Tim and compensated him for the losses.
__________________________________________________________________________
[Ding! You mediated the conflict between the gas stations. You upheld peace among the gas stations]
[Skill Points +5]
[Skill Fragment +1]
__________________________________________________________________________
But the conflict itself wasn't completely resolved yet.
When David and McClane finally arrived at the club, all they saw was a group of bar owners drinking happily together.
Tim had already decided not to pursue legal action.
Everything had been settled privately.
David and McClane felt like they had completely wasted their time.
If the victims had already forgiven everyone…
What exactly were the police supposed to investigate?
"Dove."
McClane ordered a drink and laughed.
"Why don't you become a prosecutor?"
"With how much you love peace, I bet you could mediate any case."
David joined the joke.
"Honestly, it's not a bad idea."
"Richie became a lawyer."
"Maybe the Dove could too."
Luca was speechless.
Come on.
Do you think I could pass the Mafia's political background check?
In this industry, it's not enough to simply have no clean officials in your family.
Your background has to be so dirty it can never be washed clean.
Luca smiled.
"McClane, actually I'm better at mediating family and marital relationships."
"I specialize in repairing broken marriages."
"Interested?"
McClane froze.
To be honest…
That actually sounded pretty tempting.
At the very least, it might help him see his child more often.
"You're serious?"
"Dude, are you actually serious?"
Luca nodded.
"Maybe bring your wife to the club someday."
"We can have a chat."
When in doubt…
Let the Silver Queen work its magic.
McClane thought about it seriously for a moment.
"Alright."
"I'm serious about this."
"You better keep your promise."
"Of course."
[Bond: Friends]
[Ding! New Skill Unlocked]
Luca raised an eyebrow.
First Baba Yaga, now McClane.
Damn it.
Almost every rare card he possessed had relationship problems.
Take Richie for example.
While leading the war on drugs…
He somehow managed to get divorced at the same time.
A group of powerful men outside their homes.
Yet inside their homes…
Total disasters.
Luca sighed internally.
Why do I always end up meddling in other people's family problems?
---
The next day.
A neighborhood in Queens.
The head of ExxonMobil in New York State was named Carey, and he lived here.
Recently, a new gasoline wholesale company had suddenly appeared in New York.
Using extremely low prices, it aggressively attracted gas stations across the state.
In less than a month, more than one hundred gas stations had joined its network.
Carey had investigated the situation thoroughly.
When the quality was the same but the price was lower…
Profit-driven gas stations naturally knew what to choose.
Facing this situation, Carey realized he didn't actually have many options.
Aside from lowering prices himself.
A straightforward price war meant burning money.
A business that once made steady profits was about to turn into a cash furnace.
Who would want that?
"Damn Russians!"
Carey cursed as he stepped out of his house.
"They refuse to negotiate."
"When Mobil lowers prices, they lower theirs too!"
"They're trying to dominate the market with cheap gasoline!"
"A bunch of uncivilized beasts!"
"Barbarians!"
Carey grumbled as he walked toward the street.
But before he even reached his beloved Mercedes-Benz—
A deafening explosion erupted.
His car suddenly burst into flames.
The blazing fire illuminated his horrified face.
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