Stratton & Co.
Luca found a seat with a clear view by the window and sat down, calmly observing the chaos unfolding below on Wall Street, while David's anxious voice coming through the phone didn't shake him in the slightest.
The so-called 2400-pound bomb in the schools was 99% likely fake—a decoy—and only a 1% chance existed that things had gone off-script due to the butterfly effect, which was exactly why Luca had been deliberately minimizing his influence to avoid triggering unpredictable variables or pushing the hijackers into planting bombs in places beyond his control, because the last thing he wanted was uncertainty.
Even so, Luca didn't intend to gamble on that remaining 1%, so to stay on the safe side, he chose to act as if the threat were real.
"I've already had the Lucchese family assist with the search, David—trust me, nothing's going to go wrong. I won't let a single school bomb go off," Luca said steadily.
David's voice was strained with emotion. "Dove … thank you. I don't care about credit this time—I just want every single one of those damn bombs defused. The kids are innocent, those bastards had no right using children as leverage!"
Luca considered telling him that the school bombs were likely fake—a diversion—but there was no way to explain that kind of intuition, and besides, the terrorists did possess over two thousand pounds of explosives; they just weren't necessarily placed in schools, which was exactly what made people like them so detestable—they held weapons of mass destruction, treated innocent lives as bargaining chips, and could 'bring peace' to the world with the push of a button, giving them far too much power and rendering conventional negotiation tactics nearly useless.
"I'll update you the moment I get anything," Luca said before adding, "and let me know immediately if there's any news on McClane and Keung."
David let out a heavy breath. "Dove … I hope you can create another miracle this time. New York really needs peace right now."
"Where I stand, there is peace," Luca replied quietly before lowering the phone and looking down at the chaotic streets below, his expression unreadable.
Jordan, noticing Luca had finished his call, walked over and asked, "Hey, old man, are there really terrorists in New York? I thought that shaking earlier was an earthquake."
Luca answered calmly, "I can't stop earthquakes—that's nature. But terrorists? Those are man-made disasters, and man-made disasters always have solutions."
At that moment, a line of trucks rolled in from the far end of Wall Street and headed toward the destroyed subway station, and when Luca recognized the model, his lips twitched slightly.
Damn it… of all things to steal, they had to take the Lucchese family's garbage trucks—vehicles that once hauled trash now carrying gold, a promotion those trucks definitely never saw coming.
At the same time, a blond figure appeared by the roadside and entered Luca's field of vision.
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[Character Card Discovered: Simon Peter Gruber (Unlocked)]
[Rank: A]
[Source: Die Hard With a Vengeance]
[Skills:
[Relentless Migraine (Aspirin)]
Description: Years of chronic headaches and high-stress planning have given him a supernatural tolerance for pain.
Effect: Upon consuming a standard dose of Aspirin, the user gains a 15% reduction in all incoming physical damage and pain perception for a limited duration.
Status:Consumable Trigger
Requirements: Bond Level: Close Friend or above | Skill Fragments: 50
[Simon Says]
Description: "Simon says... tell me what I want to know." A psychological compulsion that forces others to play by your rules.
Effect: When the user initiates a challenge or sets a specific rule starting with the phrase "Simon Says," the probability of participants (targets) involuntarily obeying the rules or following the instructions is forcibly increased by 10%.
Restriction: Only applies to rules/games set in the user's name.
Requirements: Bond Level: Close Friend or above | Skill Fragments: 800
[Bond: Stranger]
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"A German colonel, huh…" Luca muttered, a faint smile forming as he studied the skills.
Simon had developed a peculiar passive ability from years of relying on Aspirin for his headaches—after taking a proper dose, it reduced pain and ongoing damage by an additional 15%, which was simple but effective.
The second skill, however—"Simon Says"—was on a completely different level; every time he initiated a game, he began with "Simon says" before laying out the rules, and once those rules were established under his name, the probability of participants obeying them was forcibly increased by 10%.
It sounded abstract, almost ridiculous, but also undeniably powerful—because even a 10% increase in compliance could subtly influence decisions right at the moment someone considered breaking the rules, and in the right scenario, that was more than enough to change outcomes.
If Luca could obtain that ability, he could enforce rules in Little Italy—or even expand that influence further in the future—raising the baseline chance of compliance everywhere under his domain, proving that enough small changes could eventually lead to a qualitative shift.
That thought left Luca conflicted.
How the hell was he supposed to raise his bond with Simon to "Close Friend" in such a short time?
Simon had irreconcilable grudges against McClane, Keung, multiple SSR-level figures, and practically the entire New York establishment, which meant Luca had no realistic way to "play nice" on both sides while openly building a relationship with him.
And yet… walking away from a skill like that felt like a waste.
Luca narrowed his eyes slightly as he weighed his options, eventually reaching a cold conclusion—if the opportunity arose, he would secure the skill first, then deal with Simon afterward.
Simon had only two endings: death or arrest.
Nothing else.
Luca still needed to give Keung and McClane a satisfying resolution, and beyond that, this situation clearly qualified as a medium-to-large-scale conflict—meaning there were system rewards on the table.
After a brief pause, Luca turned and beckoned. "Jordan, come with me."
Jordan pointed at himself. "Me? Dove, I'm working—I'm not going with you to deal with terrorists."
Luca glanced back at the trading floor, where chaos and indulgence blended into something that barely resembled "work," and silently rolled his eyes.
This is what you call working? The 9-to-5 crowd would think they're on a permanent vacation if they had your job.
"Cut the crap—come with me, I'll make you rich," Luca said flatly.
Jordan instantly perked up. "Now that's what I'm talking about—you should've led with that!"
---
The Federal Reserve wasn't far away.
Simon stepped forward, pulled out a forged ID, and handed it to the official at the entrance. "Municipal Works Department—we're here to handle structural damage caused by the explosion."
The official looked surprised. "That was fast… since when is the city this efficient?"
As trucks rolled past, navigating the collapsed road and temporary access route into the underground tunnel, Simon smiled and replied, "This is Wall Street—half the rich people in the city keep their money here, and the mayor isn't about to upset them. Protecting their assets comes first."
The explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, and the official bought it without much suspicion, because it aligned all too well with how the system usually worked—when it came to pleasing the wealthy and securing campaign funding, politicians could suddenly move with miraculous efficiency.
And just like that, the door was opened for the wolves.
Simon and his crew entered the Federal Reserve without resistance.
At that moment, very few officers remained on Wall Street, as most law enforcement had been scattered across New York searching for the so-called 2400-pound bombs.
As they moved deeper underground, the official continued explaining, "The subway system actually conflicts with our structure—we advised the city to reroute it, but they still built a station right next to us. The upside is employees can't be late anymore since it's practically at our doorstep…"
He let out a small laugh before adding, "…the downside is situations like this."
"We've already had the subway temporarily shut down, and no trains will pass through until repairs are complete," he continued while leading them further in—only to suddenly stiffen as a sharp pain shot through his neck.
An anesthetic.
His vision blurred.
His body collapsed.
At the same time, the accompanying officers were silently taken down.
The robbers quickly stripped them of their uniforms and continued the operation without missing a beat.
---
Elsewhere, McClane and Keung sprinted toward their destination while talking between breaths.
"McClane, you went through something like this in Los Angeles too?"
"Yeah—and trust me, I didn't sign up for it. I was on vacation, just trying to visit my wife," McClane replied.
"People say you're a jinx."
McClane fell silent for a second, then sighed. "I've always thought someone stole my luck—that's why all this crap keeps happening. Must've pissed off Lady Luck in a past life or something."
By the time they reached the location, the public phone booth was already ringing, and McClane grabbed the receiver while catching his breath.
"This is McClane!"
"You almost didn't make it," Simon's voice came through.
"Cut the crap—what do you want now?"
Simon responded with a riddle instead. "What has four legs and is always ready to travel?"
Then he hung up.
Keung frowned. "What kind of question is that?"
"Just one of those stupid elephant jokes," McClane muttered while scanning the area, his gaze eventually locking onto a fountain where an elephant statue stood with water flowing from its trunk.
He suddenly asked, "How many steps does it take to put an elephant in a fridge?"
Keung gave him a look. "It doesn't fit."
"Think about it," McClane said before rushing toward the fountain, where they quickly discovered a suitcase bomb rigged to detonate if opened without solving the puzzle.
Nearby sat two containers—one holding 3 gallons, the other 5—and the instructions were clear: measure exactly 4 gallons and place it on the scale to prevent detonation; any deviation would trigger the bomb.
"Great—another math problem," McClane muttered before looking at Keung like he was Einstein. "Your turn."
Keung thought briefly. "Fill both first, then we work from there."
As they worked, McClane suddenly lit up. "Five plus three is eight—split in half, that's four!"
Keung stared at him. "…And how exactly do you plan to split it in half?"
McClane: "…"
Keung rolled up his sleeves. "Move—I've got this. Empty the 3-gallon first."
"Could've said that earlier—I just filled it!"
"Sigh! Now pour from the 5-gallon into it," Keung continued calmly, "which leaves 2 gallons—empty the 3-gallon again, transfer the 2 gallons, leaving 1 gallon of space, and then…"
"I got it! Five minus one equals four!" McClane shouted, grabbing Keung in excitement. "You're a damn genius!"
Keung replied dryly, "I'm just used to it—truck drivers deal with this kind of thing all the time, especially with spare fuel tanks."
They quickly completed the measurement, stabilizing the bomb and shutting down the alarm.
Just as they caught their breath, Simon called again.
"Next round—Times Square Department Store," he announced casually. "Since your Chinese friend runs a little shop, I figured we'd show him what a real department store looks like."
Then he left another question behind.
"What is 21 out of 42?"
"???"
McClane stared blankly.
Meanwhile, deep inside the underground vault, the robbers were already transporting gold worth 140 billion dollars into fourteen large trucks.
After ending the call with McClane, Simon contacted his team. "Once they reach the department store, eliminate them—the game ends there."
Then he turned toward the mountains of gold, spreading his arms wide with a satisfied smile.
"For too long, the West has plundered the world's wealth, ignored humanity, and created economic panic," he declared.
"It's time to reset the board."
With that, he climbed into one of the trucks.
Deep in the shadows of the tunnel, a pair of eyes silently watched everything unfold.
Leon spoke softly, "Luca, they've finished loading—ready to move."
Luca's voice came calmly through the comms.
"That gold?"
"It belongs to all of us."
"And we're not letting them take it."
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Thx to Kayopa 77 for becoming my P Knight, my cats is eating big tonight.
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