Bronx.
Ma Hon Keung followed Luca into an apartment building—the place where Uncle Bill's family lived. Seeing how familiar Luca was with the surroundings, Keung was finally convinced that Luca really did visit here often.
Just as they reached the door—before he even had time to knock—the neighboring door suddenly opened.
Nancy stepped out.
Her long black curls framed her face, and a shoulder bag hung casually at her side. She was dressed warmly for winter, but her tight jeans still highlighted her figure perfectly.
"Luca? Here to see Uncle Bill?"
She walked over naturally, leaned in, and kissed Luca lightly on the cheek.
"I've got a shift at the club tonight," she added, before turning and walking off with a sway in her step.
Keung blinked.
He had just made a new discovery.
Maybe… every time Luca came here, it wasn't just to visit Uncle Bill.
Maybe it was also to visit the neighbor.
Thinking back to that cheek kiss, Keung silently noted:
People abroad really were more… enthusiastic.
Soon, he experienced it firsthand.
"Keung!! I finally get to meet you! Bill talks about you all the time!"
Whitney rushed over and wrapped him in a hug—then kissed him repeatedly on the face.
The sheer enthusiasm nearly suffocated him.
By the time she went into the kitchen, Keung was still frozen in place.
…Wait.
Uncle.
How did you end up with someone like this?
"What's wrong?"
Uncle Bill waved a hand in front of Keung's face.
"Surprised? Didn't expect a Black auntie?"
"Uh… a little."
"She's a good woman," Uncle Bill said seriously, patting his shoulder before turning to Luca. "Sit, sit. I'll get you some tea. Thanks for coming all this way."
"Uncle Bill, you don't have to be so formal with me."
This wasn't Luca's first visit. He sat down like he owned the place and casually started chatting about the wedding arrangements.
The wedding would be held on the first day of Lunar New Year—at the SSR Club.
Uncle Bill would invite his friends, mostly Chinese Americans from Chinatown. Luca would be one of the groomsmen.
Nothing complicated.
Listening to them talk, Keung couldn't help but feel a little moved.
Their friendship—despite the age gap—was genuinely strong.
After Luca left, Uncle Bill pulled Keung aside.
"Ah Keung, Luca loves martial arts. If you want to stay in New York and open a martial arts school, he'll help you. If you don't want the hassle and just want to drive trucks, he can arrange that too."
"Is he really that capable?"
"He's the branch president of the truck drivers' union. Getting you a driving job? That's nothing."
"President? At his age?"
Keung was stunned.
Wasn't he running a hotel? When did he become a union president?
"It's not about age," Uncle Bill said seriously. "Luca's a heavy hitter in New York. The Bronx? That's his territory. Even the police treat him with respect."
The more Keung listened, the more confused he became.
"So… what does he actually do?"
"He's a Mafia boss."
"…Mafia?"
Keung froze.
That explained a lot.
"Uncle… you're this close to him. Are you involved too?"
"Hey, what are you thinking?" Uncle Bill said, speechless. "At my age? Join a gang?"
He shook his head.
"If Luca hadn't protected my store, I'd have gone bankrupt a long time ago. He's the guardian of this neighborhood. He sets the rules so people can do business in peace."
"Oh…"
Keung nodded slowly.
Honestly, he wasn't particularly against gangs. Back in Hong Kong, triads were everywhere. As a truck driver, he'd dealt with them plenty.
Some were loyal and honorable.
Others were just trash who bullied the weak.
He knew the difference.
"Do you know Luca's nickname?" Uncle Bill asked, patting his shoulder.
"Luca the Dove. The Dove of Peace."
Then he added seriously,
"Keung, he values you. This is your chance. Stick with him—I guarantee you'll go far."
"…Yeah. The nickname fits."
Keung thought back to what he'd seen earlier and nodded.
"But I haven't decided if I'll stay yet. I've lived in Hong Kong my whole life… I'm still not used to things here. Let's not rush. I'll help with your wedding first."
"You and Luca both keep pushing me to get married," Uncle Bill grumbled. "You should worry about settling down yourself."
"…"
---
At the same time, the group of Germans who had acquired the weapons began their operation.
"Stick to the plan. Plant the bombs first."
The blond leader gave the order coldly.
"Be careful. The FBI's been watching us. One mistake and we're done. That idiot Gallo got dozens of our men killed and left us cleaning up his mess. Fucking Italian—can't rely on any of them."
(TN: To be fair, he's got a point. Historically, Italy allied with Germany twice and turned on them both times. Man's just spitting facts.)
"Where are there the most Italians in New York?"
"Little Italy, over in the Bronx."
"Good. Then we plant one there too."
"No problem. We'll send them straight to hell."
The leader nodded.
In his mind, a bald man's face appeared again.
And then name appear—
John McClane.
The man who killed his brother.
If McClane could blow up buildings in Los Angeles—
Then he would blow up New York.
---
That evening, Luca invited Uncle Bill and his family to the SSR Club for a welcome dinner for Keung.
Seeing the luxurious club, Keung's understanding of Luca deepened even further.
Power, Wealth, and Influence.
If he followed someone like this… and actually liked him…
Maybe staying in New York wasn't such a bad idea.
Still— He wasn't used to the environment yet.
Better to stay for a while and decide later.
Over the next few days, Keung stayed at Uncle Bill's supermarket, helping with small tasks. When he had time, he would go to the SSR Club to assist with wedding preparations.
Gradually, he became familiar with everyone.
Luca first.
Then the neighbors.
Nancy—and her younger brother, Danny.
Nancy wasn't around much and didn't talk much either.
Danny, on the other hand, often came over. He had mobility issues and liked to sit nearby, watching Keung train on the wooden dummy.
That dummy had been left behind by Keung's father—a martial arts master.
It was a keepsake.
---
By late January, Chinatown was preparing for Lunar New Year, and most schools in New York had already started the spring semester.
Danny was about to start elementary school.
So Keung took it upon himself to help—bringing him to school every day.
Meanwhile, Brian had long been used to driving Mathilda to school.
"Morning, Mathilda."
"So sleepy…"
She got into the car, yawning.
"Break was way too short. Christmas barely ended and school's already back."
Brian said nothing.
If anything, people at the club were praying she'd go to school—otherwise she'd just keep dominating games with Elle Driver, ruining everyone else's experience.
As the car started, Mathilda pulled out her favorite gun and began carefully inspecting it.
Then she wiped it down with a handkerchief.
Brian stared.
"You… bring a gun to school?"
Was this evidence?
Did the Dove just give a firearm to a minor?!
After thinking about it…
Nah.
Probably nothing.
Mathilda glanced at him.
"Don't you carry one?"
"…."
Yeah, but those were FBI-issued weapons.
These days, there were more gun sellers than McDonald's in New York anyway.
Brian changed the subject.
"Do you even know how to use that? Want me to teach you?"
Mathilda gave him a look of pure disdain.
Then—
Click.
In seconds, she disassembled the gun.
Then reassembled it just as fast.
Spin.
Click.
Loaded.
Ready to fire.
"See that clearly?" she said smugly. "Want me to do it again?"
Brian was stunned.
"…What exactly are you learning at school?"
He quickly changed the subject again.
"How were your finals?"
Mathilda looked at him calmly.
"Brian… you're actually pretty handsome when you're not talking."
"…."
---
Upstairs, Luca had finished getting ready and was heading out.
"Uncle, did you receive the diamonds?" he asked over the phone as he stepped into the elevator.
The transaction had already been completed over the past few days. Everything went smoothly—no accidents, no involvement from Keung.
Mariggio replied, "All taken care of. I'll have them moved to another city for shipment."
Luca smiled.
Perfect.
This New Year would be peaceful.
He got into his vintage car and drove from Central Park toward the Bronx.
Morning sunlight lit up Manhattan's skyline.
Everything felt calm.
Routine.
Until—
BOOM!!!
A deafening explosion shattered the peace.
Even from several streets away, Luca heard it.
"What the hell?"
He turned the wheel sharply and sped toward the source.
Smoke.
Dust.
Overturned cars.
His pupils shrank.
Pieces clicked together in his mind.
The bombing.
The stolen trucks.
The German mercenaries.
There was only one conclusion.
"The McClane incident… still happened."
"The Fed's gold is in danger."
Luca narrowed his eyes.
Finally.
His chance to advance his title.
---
NYPD Police Plaza
Not long after the explosion, the station's phones were flooded with calls.
"Get the bomb squad, special units, FBI—move!"
Mills shouted orders while holding a half-eaten breakfast.
"McClane!"
"He's not here!" someone shouted back.
David immediately called him on the phone.
"Where the hell are you?!"
"Long Island. Working a case—those trucks belong to the Dove," McClane replied. "What happened?"
"There's been an explosion in Manhattan! Get back here now!"
"I'm on Long Island! This has nothing to do with me!"
"Get back first!"
Click.
Just as he hung up, his superior walked in.
"Mills. Office. Now."
Inside, the boss handed him a phone.
"For you. And McClane."
"…???"
"This is Officer Mills. Who is this?"
A calm, almost playful voice replied:
"Mills… thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule. I hope the explosion didn't inconvenience you."
"Who is this?"
"You can call me Simon. That was just to get your attention. Is McClane there?"
"He's not!"
"What do you want?"
A pause.
Then—
"I want to play a game."
==============================================================
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