O-Ren Ishii's background closely mirrors Luca's—almost eerily so—and even their ambitions point in similar directions. The difference is that her past was even more brutal.
When she was nine years old, she watched gangsters murder her parents. The samurai sword that pierced her mother's body stabbed straight through the bed frame, nearly impaling O-Ren as well—she had been hiding underneath the bed. From that moment on, she swore revenge.
She kept that promise.
Now she has eliminated her enemies and risen to become a top-tier international assassin. Her next objective is to reclaim and inherit the criminal empire her parents once controlled.
Luca's father, Greco Sr., was arrested for murder and sentenced to more than ten years in prison. Not long after entering prison, he was assassinated.
In certain ways, their lives run parallel—two assassins born from blood and loss. One wants to become a godfather. The other wants to unify the Tokyo underworld.
Luca couldn't help thinking they might actually have something in common.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the system panel appeared:
__________________________________________________________________________
[Ding! You provided intelligence and assisted the FBI and NYPD in suppressing the chaos at the "Joe & Mary" club, maintaining internal order]
[Skill Points +10]
[Skill Fragments +5]
__________________________________________________________________________
Not bad at all.
Thank you, Agent Denham. Thank you, Richie.
---
Outside the clubhouse, Agent Denham was coordinating cleanup with fellow agents. Richie and David were helping as well.
McClane sat beside an ambulance, letting paramedics wrap him in bandages. The younger EMTs had initially been horrified by the blood-soaked figure—until they realized most of it was superficial.
"I heard you basically stopped a gang war by yourself," one medic said, impressed. "It's my first mission and I run into someone like you."
McClane winced.
He had fought O-Ren Ishii for what felt like an eternity—even chipped his knife—and she still escaped.
Unbelievable.
Still, she was the strongest individual opponent he'd ever faced. No contest.
People said Dove of Peace was powerful too. But they'd never fought, so McClane had no reference point.
"I wish I wasn't this capable," McClane muttered. "I wish the world didn't need guys like me."
"Ouch!"
He snapped upright. "What are you doing?!"
"Disinfecting the wound."
"You said it wouldn't hurt!"
"No pain."
"OUCH! That's definitely pain!"
"David, after this case… I think I'm done," Richie said quietly, leaning against a squad car and staring at the damaged clubhouse. He took a slow drag from his cigarette.
"Because of tonight?" David asked.
"Not exactly." Richie shook his head. "Before I joined the narcotics unit, I was studying for the bar exam. Planned to become a lawyer. Then someone from Washington showed up and recruited me into this federal drug task force."
He exhaled smoke.
"This was always supposed to be temporary. I'll finish law school."
"I thought you were dedicating your life to the war on drugs."
"I'm not a martyr," Richie said calmly. "This isn't about heroism. It's about obsession."
He remembered being ostracized at the precinct. Doing the right thing—and being punished for it. The "upright" officers who shut him down. The humiliation.
He couldn't let that go.
To win this war, he had spared nothing—even collaborating with the Mafia.
"If I walk away," Richie muttered, "I'm dragging a bunch of corrupt cops down with me."
David sighed. "Man, when you talk like that, it makes being a cop sound pointless."
He clapped Richie on the shoulder.
"We can still choose to do the right thing. Look at Dove of Peace. He's technically Mafia—and he's out here preserving order."
Richie gave a dry laugh. "Let's hope that's true."
---
Inside a safe house on Long Island.
O-Ren Ishii knelt formally on the floor and bowed deeply toward Luca.
"Mr. Greco," she said solemnly. "I underestimated the enemy. My recklessness caused this mission to fail. I accept responsibility."
Her voice carried genuine remorse.
She had assassinated numerous gang leaders without failure. Confidence had become second nature. This mission had seemed routine.
Tonight shattered that illusion.
She still didn't understand how the assassination spiraled into a full gang shootout—or how John McClane could fight like that.
Her men had fallen in droves.
It was a one-sided collapse.
Luca listened quietly.
He now understood that Dominic had commissioned the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad to eliminate Richie Roberts and Carmine Galante. Bill had acted as intermediary.
What he didn't yet know was the deeper arrangement—whether Bill and Dominic were jointly backing Frank's narcotics empire, or whether other interests were at play.
The fact that Bill supported O-Ren in competing for leadership of the Tokyo yakuza hinted at something bigger. Perhaps he had his eyes on New York as well.
"Ms. Ishii," Luca asked calmly, "you only received the contract from Dominic, correct?"
"We were invited to his estate for a private discussion," Elle Driver replied, flipping open her notebook and scribbling something down. "Bill mentioned you, Mr. Greco. Suggested cooperation. But our Miss Cottonmouth here didn't take you seriously."
O-Ren bowed again. "Mr. Greco, I meant no disrespect. I accept full responsibility."
Luca studied her for a moment.
If he hadn't intervened tonight, they might actually have succeeded.
Who could stop O-Ren Ishii?
Only someone like McClane—a walking cheat code—could neutralize her.
In pure combat ability, she ranked among the top in the world. Her eventual rise as a yakuza queen wouldn't be luck—it would be merit.
In the original timeline, after the Bride was betrayed at her wedding, Bill used his organizational power to help O-Ren unify Tokyo's underworld.
Her parents had once been part of the Tokyo Yakuza Council. She had the lineage and standing to compete for leadership.
If Bill could elevate her—
Why couldn't a future peace ambassador?
There was a seat for the Japanese Yakuza on the High Table. There was one for the American Mafia, one for the Camorra, one for the Russian syndicate.
If O-Ren could sit at that table, why not Night Demon?
One day, all twelve seats might belong to his people.
World peace. Coordinated via organized crime.
Beautiful.
Small goal first: build trust with O-Ren Ishii.
"It's not entirely your fault," Luca said evenly. "You've fought that balding man. You understand his strength."
O-Ren hesitated.
Fighting him felt like battling a boss whose health bar barely moved no matter how much damage you dealt.
"It's clear now," Luca continued, "that both the police and the Bonanno family were prepared. You were under surveillance the moment you walked in."
She remained silent.
"You did well to leave alive. That alone required skill."
"Mr. Greco," she said quietly, "past victories made me arrogant. This defeat is a lesson. I must accept responsibility."
Luca thought to himself: The Japanese really do take accountability seriously.
"I should commit seppuku," Elle joked lazily.
O-Ren ignored her.
"Mr. Greco," she said firmly, "allow me to work with you. I will wash away this shame."
Luca didn't answer immediately.
"You're injured," he said calmly. "Rest. This location is secure. We can discuss future operations once you recover."
"This wound is nothing," she insisted.
"Ms. Ishii." Luca gently cut her off and extended his hand. "I am willing to cooperate. But trust goes both ways. If you want Galante's head, I can deliver it. If you want to take it yourself, then recover first and fight beside me at full strength."
He smiled faintly.
"I don't doubt you because you're a woman. I doubt you because you don't trust me yet."
Something in his tone felt steady. Reliable.
O-Ren inhaled slowly, then took his hand.
"Mr. Greco," she said solemnly. "Thank you for your trust. I look forward to our cooperation."
[Bond: Attention]
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Ehem, As you may know, this 5 chapters is last chapters of the week, tomorrow is my day off. So, yeah.
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