At the library, Luca and William Somerset quickly compiled a list of relevant titles—The Divine Comedy, A History of Catholicism, Murderers and Madmen, Modern Homicide Investigation, and several related theological works.
They printed the catalog and then contacted an acquaintance in the FBI. With a modest "friendly donation" of five hundred dollars—courtesy of Luca—the agent agreed to illegally access borrower records.
Five hundred dollars to breach private data.
When Somerset negotiated with the FBI contact, he deliberately sent Luca away. Only after everything was settled did he allow him back into the car.
"Was that an FBI agent?" Luca asked casually, pretending ignorance.
Somerset glanced at him in surprise. "You know him?"
"No," Luca replied calmly. "But I know who can access borrower information like that. The FBI has been quietly monitoring library systems for years—tracking who borrows books about nuclear weapons, crime, or extremist ideologies. They record the names. It's a violation of privacy, isn't it?"
Somerset fell silent.
In a country that prided itself on civil liberties and limited surveillance, such actions were indeed questionable. But what unsettled him more was this: how did Luca know?
This was not public information. Somerset himself had learned it only through an old federal contact.
Seeing the detective's silence, Luca grinned and extended a hand. "Relax. I won't say a word. This stays between us."
Somerset shook his hand with a weary smile. "It won't appear in the case report."
"I understand your difficulties," Luca said lightly. "You need information, but official procedures are slow. Like last time in Times Square—by the time you finished applying for authorization to tap signals, the suspect would've vanished."
It was true.
Somerset sighed. "Without rules, there is no order."
"But you're not inflexible, Detective."
They exchanged a knowing look.
—
Working through the borrowed records, the two men compared names against the compiled list.
Then one name stood out.
—John Doe.
Based on what he already knew, Luca was immediately certain: this was the killer.
Perfect. Now he had an address.
But he did not reveal his conclusion. Instead, he pointed Somerset toward another suspicious name on the list, deliberately misleading the investigation. They agreed to split up and follow separate leads.
Luca had no intention of acting openly in front of the police. He could not kill a man while standing beside detectives.
Better to act alone.
He could find John Doe, capture or cripple him, then later maneuver events so that the credit fell to Somerset and David Mills. He would secure the System's reward and strengthen his bond with both detectives.
Win-win.
Before parting, Luca and Somerset exchanged phone numbers. Then Luca returned home, prepared his equipment, and called Léon.
Soon, the two men were driving toward Queens.
"Who's the target?" Léon asked quietly.
"John Doe."
Inside the car, Luca handed over the file. "He's responsible for the recent religious murders—Gluttony and Pride."
Léon said nothing, calmly attaching a suppressor to his pistol.
"Primary objective: subdue," Luca continued. "If we can't kill him cleanly, cripple him. If he threatens us, eliminate him."
"Understood."
—
At the apartment building in Queens, the two assassins entered silently and approached the target's door.
They knocked.
No answer.
Without hesitation, they withdrew and waited in concealment. Both men were patient hunters. They remained hidden until eight in the evening, when John Doe finally returned.
In the original chain of events, Joe had wounded two officers and escaped.
Tonight, he faced two professionals.
The moment he opened his door—
Two suppressed shots struck his legs.
Before he could draw his weapon, a blade pressed against his throat.
"Quiet," Léon said coldly.
Joe froze and nodded.
They dragged him inside and secured him tightly.
Joe stared at the masked intruders, mind racing. How was this possible? He had erased his digital trail, severed his fingerprints, avoided financial activity. He had made himself invisible.
Had his recent murders exposed him? Impossible. He left no identity clues.
A home invasion, perhaps?
After several seconds of intense calculation, Joe concluded that robbery was the most plausible explanation.
Regaining composure, he spoke through clenched teeth despite the pain. "If it's money you want, let me stop the bleeding first. I'll tell you where the cash is. Take it and leave. I won't involve the police."
Biu.
Another suppressed shot tore into his leg.
"Didn't you hear him?" Luca said coolly. "Stay quiet."
Joe's expression stiffened.
Had he encountered lunatics?
—
[Character Card Discovered: John Doe]
[Rank: S]
[Source: Se7en]
[Skills: Divine Judgment; Bloodstained Footprints]
[Bond: Stranger]
Luca narrowed his eyes.
An S-Rank card—with two skills.
No wonder he was a high-IQ criminal capable of outmaneuvering the police.
Still, there would be no bond development here. Joe was fundamentally unhinged—isolated, twisted, incapable of normal social interaction. Building rapport with him would be pointless.
Luca stuffed a rag into Joe's mouth and began exploring the apartment.
The interior was bleak and oppressive. Catholic crosses covered the walls. Bibles lay stacked in corners. Religious emblems and candles were scattered everywhere. Shelves held sealed jars containing grotesque preserved remains.
One room was filled entirely with notebooks—over a thousand of them, each roughly two hundred and fifty pages long. Joe had meticulously documented his thoughts, grievances, accusations against society, and contempt for humanity.
Every page reeked of self-righteous obsession.
Luca had no interest in reading a single line.
In the darkroom, he found hanging photographs.
The obese glutton.
The disfigured celebrity.
In a darkroom, photographs hung from wires. The obese victim. The murdered model. Detective David Mills, labeled "Wrath."
But there were more.
Jordan Belfort — marked "Greed" and "Lust."
Norman Stansfield.
Jimmy Conway.
And then—
Luca's own photograph.
Under it were the words:
"Peace Ambassador? Concerned Citizen?"
Below that: "Greedy and Arrogant."
Luca stared at the photo for a long moment.
Then he let out a low laugh.
What the fuck?
An S-rank card… and he dares to label rare-tier individuals?
Who the hell gave you the confidence to put my name on your wall?
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