Two days later, Saurel arrived in New York from Switzerland.
He hadn't wanted to come. Jordan had already moved the money, and as far as Saurel was concerned, their business was finished. But Jordan had leverage. He revealed that he knew Saurel was having an affair with his best friend's wife.
That complicated things.
Jordan had a circle of close partners. When they first moved the $20 million into Switzerland, it was one partner's wife who helped facilitate the transfer. After several transactions, she and Saurel grew close. Eventually, what began as business turned into something far more personal—and far more dangerous.
Sneaking around was thrilling. Getting exposed would be catastrophic.
On top of that, Jordan hinted at a new business opportunity. That was enough to draw Saurel to New York immediately. Compared to a moderately attractive married woman, money carried more weight. Ideally, this complication wouldn't interfere too much with their future cooperation.
The day he arrived, Saurel went straight to Wall Street to meet Jordan. They discussed laundering arrangements and potential partnerships. Neither man mentioned the affair. The only subject was money, as though the other matter simply did not exist.
That evening, they shared a pleasant dinner.
---
The next day, Saurel visited the Benihana Restaurant and met privately with several of its "clients."
Benihana Restaurant was a Japanese style restaurant. Its owner, Rocky Aoki, presented himself as a restaurateur—but behind the scenes, he operated a money laundering and drug dealing operation .
As one of the many groups squeezed by Blue Magic's dominance, Aoki's Japanese syndicate had struggled. Frank's monopolistic tactics had severely limited their operations. With few alternatives left, Aoki sought cooperation and became a Blue Magic distributor in New York and several surrounding cities.
At that point, anyone trafficking in those regions had to go through Blue Magic.
Saurel laundered drug profits through advertising sponsorships, investments in major sports clubs and events, equipment purchases, match manipulation, and athlete contracts.
The percentage he earned from laundering drug money was higher than what he made handling Jordan's funds.
But it was also significantly more dangerous.
---
New Jersey
Richie pinned two photos to the blackboard—one of Aoki, the other of a Black man.
"Aoki," Richie began, "publicly the founder of Red Flower Restaurant. Privately, he leads a biker organization."
"Bōsōzoku?" someone asked.
"Exactly. Japanese street racing gangs are well known. They start as motorcycle enthusiast groups. But when you gather enough young men together, rule-breaking usually follows."
Richie tapped the board.
"Drug trafficking becomes the natural progression. They're not just moving Blue Magic. They're handling a full range of substances."
He listed several names. Everyone nodded.
After Wall Street traders, underground gang members made up one of the largest consumer groups for narcotics. Thrill-seeking subcultures—especially street racing crews—were fertile ground.
Richie pointed to the second photo.
"Turner. Frank's older brother. He runs a tire shop in the Bronx and helps distribute drugs. He's also into street racing. He met Aoki through underground racing circles. They use race events as cover for transfers."
He sighed.
"We've dismantled a lot of distributors. But aside from Frank himself, this biker group is the toughest. They use heavily modified car—fast, agile, and difficult to track."
"Our patrol cars can barely keep up," Richie admitted.
If you can't catch them, you can't prosecute them.
David chuckled. "Why don't we modify a few squad cars? I've been wanting to try nitrous for a while."
All eyes turned to their superior.
Car modifications required funding.
The boss rubbed his temples. "The last time we got buy-money approved, it practically required an act of Congress. Where would we get funding for racing mods? And even if we had the cars—could you guys actually handle them?"
They all went to silence.
---
The Bronx — Street Racing Stronghold
Punk rock blasted through the air. Flashy, rebellious young people packed a warehouse-like venue, dancing under harsh industrial lights.
Dressed in black, Luca walked in. Members greeted him casually.
Escorted through the main hall and out a back entrance, he arrived at a half-finished building covered in graffiti. The open lot surrounding it served as an improvised racetrack.
Motorcycles and modified cars roared in circles. Beer flowed. Barbecues smoked. Attractive women leaned against car hoods under neon lights.
Luca spotted Matilda standing off to the side, holding a carton of milk. A group nearby was drinking beer, but she remained the only one drinking milk.
He smiled.
For all her rebellious streak, she still listened to him.
"Matilda!"
She turned immediately, spotting his tall figure in the crowd. She ran over, wrapped her arms around his forearm, and wiped a trace of milk from her lip onto his sleeve.
A few nearby geng members stood and greeted the Dove of Peace.
Luca joined the group, listening to their boasting and banter. Compared to the more restrained Mafia members, these punks and racers felt alive—louder, brighter, more chaotic.
"They're racing for three thousand dollars," Matilda said, pointing to a red-and-black modified car. "That's Nancy's."
Luca looked toward the track.
Nancy was in second place.
Ahead of her was a green Mitsubishi Eclipse—faster, smoother through corners, operating on an entirely different level.
The race ended decisively. The green Eclipse dominated.
The driver's door opened.
Brian O'Conner stepped out to cheers, collecting wagers as women gathered around him.
Blond hair under neon lights. Sports car. Effortless confidence.
Luca smiled.
Blond hair and horsepower—universally effective.
"Hi," Nancy said as she approached Luca. Tall, confident, dressed in racing leathers. "I stopped by the club earlier, but you were busy."
"So I came here instead," Luca replied smoothly, surveying the scene. "I like the atmosphere."
__________________________________________________________________________
Character Card: Nancy – Rank C
Source: Rumble in the Bronx
Skill: Motorcycle Phantom
– +20% vehicle control
– +20% success rate in extreme driving conditions
– Effect doubled when riding a motorcycle
Learning Requirement: Friend Bond + 20 Fragments
Bond: Friend
__________________________________________________________________________
A respectable skill.
But nothing compared to Brian's top-tier abilities.
Luca glanced toward the blond driver still surrounded by admirers.
__________________________________________________________________________
Character Card: Brian O'Conner – Rank SSR
Source: Fast and Furious Saga
Skill: Man and Machine in Perfect Harmony
– +50% vehicle control
– +50% success rate in extreme driving conditions
– Mastery of advanced driving techniques
– 50–80% reduction in crash injury probability (based on driving proficiency)
Learning Requirement: Close Friend Bond + 100 Fragments
Bond: Close Friend
Skill: Radiant Charisma
– +10% favorability gain (opposite sex)
– +15% favorability gain (same sex)
Learning Requirement: Friend Bond + 80 Fragments
Bond: Friend
Skill: Turning Away from the Badge
– +20% criminal trust while undercover
– +30–50% additional criminal trust after defection (based on bond level)
– −70% official trust after defection
Learning Requirement: Close Friend Bond + 80 Fragments
Bond: Close Friend
Skill: Family Hero
– +50–100% combat power while protecting teammates/family (based on bond)
– +50% willpower
– −50% negative mental state effects
– Activation phrase: "For my family!"
Learning Requirement: Partner Bond + 200 Fragments
Bond: Partner
Skill: See You Again
– +10–30% to all learned abilities for teammates/family upon leaving the field
– Bonus fades over time and refreshes upon reunion
Learning Requirement: Symbiotic Bond + 300 Fragments
Bond: Attention
__________________________________________________________________________
Luca's expression softened, almost paternal.
These skills were extraordinary.
"Man and Machine in Perfect Harmony" far surpassed Motorcycle Phantom. It was fundamental—and the crash resistance alone made it invaluable.
Radiant Charisma was excellent as well. Improving efficiency in building favorability was arguably more powerful than increasing flat affection—and it worked even better with the same sex.
Good brother.
The third skill was situational—designed for undercover operations.
The fourth required shouting a slogan, but Luca didn't mind. He had advocated peace countless times. Adding "For my family!" was hardly a burden.
Can't the Dove of Peace also be a family hero?
As for the fifth skill…
"Do I really need this?" Luca wondered. "It buffs others, not me."
He considered it carefully.
If Brian reached Close Friend status and simply left the field, Luca would automatically receive the boost.
Leave. Buff. Reunite. Reset. Repeat.
See you again. And again.
A faintly mischievous smile crossed Luca's face.
"Brian is an elite support unit."
Not bad. Every godfather needs a support character.
The buff mechanic might be abstract—but it was effective.
Now the key was building that bond quickly.
Emotion would matter. Shared experience.
Racing was essential.
Luca checked his own Driving LV4. He could invest points to reach LV6—or temporarily learn Motorcycle Phantom for 20 fragments as a stepping stone.
"Hey! Dove!"
Brian walked over and slapped Luca's hand in greeting.
"I saw that last race," Luca said. "Impressive control."
"No pressure out here," Brian shrugged. "L.A. drivers are tougher."
"That's not a fair comparison," Luca replied lightly. "Los Angeles is a racing capital."
He leaned closer.
"Want to go somewhere with me?"
"Where?"
"Racing."
Saurel. Red Flower Restaurant. Money laundering. Drug trafficking. Underground circuits.
Everything was converging neatly.
Denham handled laundering investigations. Richie and David handled drug enforcement.
Brian handled racing.
Wouldn't this completely crush Red Flower Restaurant?
Deal with Saurel. Dismantle Red Flower. Share the gains with allies.
Those sword-waving hotheads shouting "baka" wouldn't be able to stop the Dove of Peace.
Luca smiled faintly.
"Don't underestimate New York," he said. "The streets may not be as wide open as L.A., but the racing here is just as intense. You want pressure? I'll find you drivers who can really push you."
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