Only Luca and Mike remained seated across from each other at the poker table. A large crowd of onlookers—Mafia members and gamblers alike—formed a human wall around them, making the blond college student feel immense pressure.
Looking at the still-damp bloodstains on the table, Mike swallowed nervously.
Am I going to die here today?
"You understand the whole situation, right?" Luca asked with a faint smile as he shuffled a deck of cards. "Any objections to the solution I proposed?"
Mike shook his head helplessly.
"No objections. Worm cheated first, so he was definitely in the wrong… but you also injured his hand. Couldn't you ask for less money?"
"That reason isn't enough."
As Luca shuffled the cards smoothly, he continued calmly.
"Casinos have rules. Even if I cut off his hand and then asked him for three dollars, he still wouldn't have the right to refuse."
Mike fell silent.
Of course he understood the rules.
Small underground games sometimes bent them, but this place was Mafia territory—far more dangerous than any Russian gambling den.
'Worm you Idiot!. You idiot cheats everywhere you plays!.'
Seeing Mike's conflicted expression, Luca asked casually,
"Your name is Mike, right? If you can't come up with the money, you can leave. This has nothing to do with you."
"Can we have some time?" Mike took a deep breath. "I don't have that kind of money right now. Give me three weeks and I'll pay ten thousand a week. Worm just got out of prison… can't we show some understanding?"
Luca shook his head.
"This isn't about money."
He looked straight at Mike.
"Are you sure you want to vouch for Worm? If you do, both of you are responsible. If you fail to pay on time, the consequences won't be as simple as losing a hand."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Are you willing to risk your life for your friend?"
Mike's body trembled.
It felt like a giant hand had grabbed his heart and squeezed. Even the Russians had never pushed him this hard.
The price of guaranteeing someone was simply too high.
This has nothing to do with me.
I quit gambling. I have a good life now—college, a professor who values me, and a girlfriend who loves me.
As long as he stayed away from cards, that peaceful life could continue.
If he gambled again…
Everything could fall apart.
But when he looked at Worm—
Mike sighed.
"Count me in."
Luca smiled slightly.
"Good kid. You're more loyal than your friend."
"A touching friendship," Luca added with a nod. "But three weeks is too long. I can't wait that long."
"Then two weeks!" Mike gritted his teeth. "Please!"
He planned to borrow money everywhere he could. If that failed, he would break his vow and secretly play in small underground games to win it back.
Luca shook his head again.
"I can't even wait one day."
"Mr. Greco, one day is impossible!" Mike gripped the edge of the table. His legs were weak.
One day? That's not even enough time to run.
Luca smiled slightly.
"I have another proposal. Want to hear it?"
"What is it?"
"Promise me a favor."
"If I ever need something in the future, you'll do it for me. In exchange, I'll forgive the debt."
He paused.
"Let's just call it making a friend."
Mike blinked.
No money? Just a promise?
Since when does the Mafia make deals like that?
"I'll only ask my friends to do what they're capable of," Luca continued.
"Birds of a feather flock together. Worm is a skilled gambler, so you must be pretty good too."
"One day, I might need you to gamble for me."
"Play cards for you?"
"Exactly. I provide the money, you provide the skill."
"Who would I be playing against?"
"You don't need to know yet."
In truth, Luca was simply creating an excuse to deepen the connection.
Once someone owed the Peace Ambassador, paying it back would never be easy.
After thinking for several seconds, Mike nodded.
"Alright. If it's just playing cards, I agree."
"A wise choice."
Luca extended his hand.
"Mike, you saved your friend with your courage. I respect that kind of loyalty."
Mike shook his hand.
"Thank you."
The crushing weight on his chest finally lifted.
"Mr. Greco," Mike joked nervously, "I hope you won't make me face an unbeatable opponent."
Luca chuckled.
"I don't throw my money away."
__________________________________________________________________________
[Character Card Discovered: Mike McDermott (Unlocked)]
Rank: S
Source: Rounders
Title: Poker Prodigy
Skill: All-In Instinct
--- When going all-in in Texas Hold'em, your winning probability increases by 5%–30%
--- Earlier all-ins provide higher probability boosts due to increased uncertainty
Learning Requirement: Bond ≥ Friend; 50 Skill Fragments
Skill: Micro-Expression Analysis
--- Observation +30% when reading facial expressions and gestures
--- Ability to distinguish truth from lies through subtle behavioral cues
--- Additional +20% analytical accuracy when playing poker
Learning Requirement: Bond ≥ Close Friend; 80 Skill Fragments
Bond: Attention
__________________________________________________________________________
Both skills were clearly designed for the poker table.
However, Micro-Expression Analysis had far broader applications. It was essentially the ability to read between the lines—detecting someone's true intentions through tiny movements or expressions.
With this ability, Luca's already sharp perception would become terrifyingly precise.
And yet…
If Mike was so good at reading people, how had he failed to notice that Worm had become a slick con artist after prison?
Mike escorted Worm out of the club and took him to the hospital.
The injury wasn't life-threatening, but for a professional cheat who relied on sleight-of-hand tricks to manipulate cards, the damage to his right hand was devastating.
In the hospital corridor, Worm stared at his bandaged hand.
"Mike… I'm finished."
"My right hand is ruined!"
Mike sighed.
"I know you love cards, but look at me. I haven't gambled for a year."
"We can live just fine without it."
Worm shook his head stubbornly.
"I'll start practicing with my left hand."
Mike rolled his eyes.
"You son of a bitch… will you die if you stop gambling?"
Worm laughed shamelessly.
"With my talent? Three months, maybe six. I'll master it."
"We still have to go to Las Vegas and slaughter some pigs."
Mike sighed again.
"It's a miracle the Mafia didn't kill us today."
Worm suddenly asked,
"By the way… where did you get the money to pay them?"
Mike replied calmly.
"I didn't."
"…What?"
"That guy—Luca Greco—asked me for a favor instead."
"Play cards for him."
Worm burst out laughing.
"I've been begging you to gamble again for months, and you refused! But the moment someone else asks, you agree?"
"Damn it! I only agreed because of you!"
"Hahaha, relax, buddy. I'm joking."
Worm scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Still… I didn't expect the Mafia to make that kind of request."
"Aren't Italians supposed to be extremely xenophobic?"
Mike shrugged.
"What choice did I have?"
"If it's just playing cards… I guess it's fine."
Worm immediately grinned.
"Then you better start practicing again."
"If you lose their game, the Mafia will definitely kill you."
Mike: "…"
In the end… am I really going to break my vow?
---
That evening, Luca brought Mathilda to visit Mariggio's house.
After dinner, the uncle and nephew sat in the courtyard, quietly discussing their plans for rising within the family.
"Maurizio," Luca asked, "among the capos, who's the most qualified to become underboss?"
Maurizio thought for a moment.
"The most senior one is probably White Tiger."
"He's good at making money and used to have a good relationship with the boss and Dominic."
Luca nodded slowly.
White Tiger again.
The first rare character card Luca had discovered.
In Luca's memory, White Tiger was a greedy fool who had been completely outplayed by Uncle Bill's Nephew, Keung.
An entire group of Mafia gunmen once tried to settle scores—only to be defeated by one man without a gun.
It was hard to tell whether White Tiger was stupid… or whether Uncle Bill's nephew was simply monstrous.
"Besides him?" Luca asked.
"Paulie Cicero? Anthony Casso?"
Maurizio frowned.
"Paulie is too timid in business."
"But Anthony Casso…"
Mariggio's expression darkened.
"That man is a complete lunatic."
Luca frowned as well.
Anthony Casso—nicknamed "Gaspipe."
In the original timeline, he eventually became the family's boss.
He was infamous for paranoia.
There were rumors that he once dreamed someone betrayed him—so the next day he had the man killed.
One of his most famous actions was arranging a car bombing against a rival boss… only for the wrong target to be blown up.
Luca honestly had no idea how someone like that had climbed so high.
Too many new characters had appeared in this world.
The future of the Lucchese family was no longer predictable.
Mariggio finally said,
"Bartolo will call a meeting in a few days to discuss family business. All the capos will attend."
"I'll go with you," Luca replied.
Mariggio nodded.
"At the meeting, Dominic's old rackets will probably be redistributed."
"Everyone wants a piece."
He hesitated before asking,
"Are we really giving up the drug trade?"
"It's the most profitable business."
"Give it up," Luca said firmly.
"These are sensitive times. The NYPD is restructuring."
"If we want to stay on good terms with the authorities, drugs are the last thing we should touch."
The authorities hated drugs more than anything right now.
And Luca—the Peace Ambassador—definitely couldn't run a drug operation.
"Still," Luca added calmly, "we won't give it away for free."
"If White Tiger wants the drug trade…"
"He'll have to trade us his other businesses."
Mariggio sighed.
"He still has the jewelry business."
Luca went silent.
The jewelry business was definitely profitable.
And Donnie Brasco even had the Jewelry Appraisal skill.
But that whole storyline revolved around a diamond deal between the Mafia and that "nephew."
Am I going to end up opposing him now?
Mariggio, however, was worried about something completely different.
"The profit margin is lower than drugs."
"Stop thinking about drugs," Luca said.
"I'm worried White Tiger will become too powerful."
"Don't worry."
Luca smiled faintly.
"I'm here."
Inside, he was thinking about something else entirely.
The gasoline tax scheme.
That business makes far more money than drugs.
"Uncle," Luca said confidently, "trust me."
"You'll become the next underboss."
Mariggio laughed.
"Then you'll become the youngest capo in family history."
The two raised their glasses and clinked them together.
War within the Mafia was about to begin.
And Luca Greco—the Peace Ambassador—
was preparing to reshape it.
Luca then told Mariggio about the gasoline tax schemes. Opening a gasoline wholesale company was easy, but getting the necessary licenses was extremely difficult.
The Russians couldn't expand their business because they had no way of obtaining legal permits. That was where the Mafia family's network of connections became invaluable. Through back channels, they could secure the permits and registration plates that others couldn't.
After Luca finished explaining the entire scheme, Mariggio stared at his nephew as if he were looking at a monster. He reached out and touched Luca's forehead.
"Are you still the same Luca the Dove I know? When did you become this clever? Since when did you have such a sharp business mind? Looks like you finally figured things out."
"Mariggio, please don't casually tell people about my education next time," Luca complained. "This morning Matilda was laughing at me for not even finishing elementary school. She's only twelve, and her education level is already higher than mine."
Mariggio gave an awkward smile.
While most members of the Mafia didn't have particularly high levels of education, it was still rare to find someone like the Peace Ambassador—someone who hadn't even finished elementary school and had started working at the age of ten.
Mariggio quickly changed the subject.
"Oh right, there's something else. In two months, Joe Colombo is planning to hold the second Italian-American community rally. He's already started organizing it and wants our family and the others to participate."
Luca's eyes flickered slightly.
A public rally…
It was bound to happen eventually.
One of the most infamous deaths of a Mafia boss would occur at such an event—shot in the head in front of tens of thousands of people.
From that moment on, the fragile facade of peace within the New York Mafia would begin to crumble. The city would gradually descend into a spiral of bloodshed.
The Commission's rules of peace would be ignored again and again. Some would even use those very rules as excuses to eliminate their rivals. Assassinations would run rampant as Mafia families waged brutal wars across New York in pursuit of power and money.
The Peace Ambassador silently thought to himself.
This… was the moment for him to step in and defend peace.
================================================================================
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