New York, SSR Club.
Luca sat together with a group of Mafia members in front of the television, watching Hoffa's interview.
On the screen, Jimmy Hoffa stood at the entrance of the Washington union headquarters, venting his frustrations to a crowd of reporters:
"This used to be my office! You won't find Frank Fitzsimmons in there, because he's busy traveling all over the country, tagging along behind the President and the Attorney General, playing golf while collecting a full salary!"
"How the hell does he make that much money while neglecting his duties? I'm the one who went to prison for fraud, but he's the real fraud!"
Looking at the loud, explosive Hoffa on the screen, a panel suddenly popped up in front of Luca:
----------------------------------------------------------
[Character Card: Jimmy Hoffa]
[Hoffa: S]
[Source: The Irishman]
[Skills: Fury Overlord; Guild Tyrant]
[Bond: Follow]
-------------------------------------------------------------
Luca glanced at it briefly, then closed the panel.
The three core figures in that original storyline—the Irish painter, Hoffa, and the boss of the Bufalino family—had their friendship and grudges intertwined for decades. Now, with the outbreak of the internal union war, Hoffa's fate was gradually approaching its "end."
At this moment, besides Luca, Mariggio was also standing in front of the TV, along with Fat Tony, who had come to the club specifically for this—a C-card-level figure.
Also originating from The Irishman, Tony possessed a unique skill called "Gang Mediation." The boss of the Genovese family was overweight, liked wearing a black fedora, smoked cigars constantly, and had a habit of stepping in to mediate disputes between gangs.
In the original storyline, he had been the one trying to mediate between Hoffa, Frank Fitzsimmons, and Pro. Unfortunately, he failed, and in the end, he had no choice but to issue an execution order—ordering someone to kill Hoffa.
For a peacemaker, the final solution is often to eliminate the troublemaker.
However, things had not yet reached that stage, and Tony's attitude toward Hoffa right now was one of "affection mixed with helplessness."
"Hoffa shouldn't have said that in the interview," Tony said, leaning back on the sofa while puffing on his cigar. "He can't badmouth Fitz like that. They're friends. Can't they just calm down and talk things through?"
Tony, who preferred smoothing things over, and Mariggio, who had once been Hoffa's "old friend," both spoke with a sense of helplessness.
"This probably wasn't Hoffa's intention," Mariggio said. "It's understandable that he wants to run for chairman and build momentum, but his words were too extreme. We all know Hoffa is a straightforward man."
"Hoffa is too reckless. Someone needs to cool him down," Tony added, then continued, "And Fitz went too far as well. He shouldn't have blown up that yacht. This won't end well—it'll only escalate things."
After saying that, Tony looked at Luca.
"Dove, you haven't met Hoffa yet, right? You should talk to him in person as soon as possible. Nobody wants this to turn ugly."
Now that the boss of the Genovese family was willing to step in and mediate, Luca smiled slightly and replied, "I've already invited him. When we meet, I'll pass your message along."
"Have a proper talk with Hoffa," Tony said seriously. "Dove, you're the best at prioritizing peace. In some ways, you're even better than me. Look at it now—everyone is coming to you to mediate disputes. As the referee, you have to maintain peace."
Luca nodded.
At present, these Mafia bosses were not overly radical, because the internal conflict between Hoffa and Frank Fitzsimmons had not yet affected the Mafia's core interests.
In fact, no matter who became chairman, as long as they followed the Mafia's wishes and were willing to cooperate, the Mafia wouldn't object—even if Hoffa took power through legitimate means.
The Mafia and Hoffa had cooperated for decades and had maintained a strong relationship.
For example, when Hoffa needed to pressure business owners through strikes, the Mafia would step in to stir trouble and help escalate the situation, forcing companies to agree to better labor contracts.
In return, Hoffa provided the Mafia with large kickbacks and approved low-interest loans through the union's pension fund, helping fund major projects—such as turning Las Vegas into a gambling empire.
During presidential elections, Hoffa had even collaborated with the Mafia to influence votes in support of certain candidates. In exchange, those in power were expected to serve Mafia interests—such as dealing with Cuba after the losses caused by the Cuban Revolution and the Bay of Pigs fiasco.
Later, a relative of a U.S. president targeted Hoffa and repeatedly investigated him. Eventually, the New Orleans Mafia carried out a single, decisive action—leading to one of the most infamous presidential assassination cases in American history.
The Mafia and Hoffa had done far too much together.
It had been a golden era of cooperation, where both sides thrived.
So while many Mafia bosses were annoyed by Hoffa's temper, they still respected him deeply and considered him one of their own.
Hoffa himself had also shown loyalty. Even after being imprisoned for fraud, he never exposed anything about the Mafia, and even before his eventual disappearance, he never betrayed them.
If the Mafia's external partners were ranked, Hoffa would stand at the very top—on par with the bosses themselves.
"Tell Hoffa that we all care about him," Tony said as he stood up, patting Luca on the shoulder. "And that we hope he won't disappoint us."
With that, he left the cigar room.
Luca understood Tony's stance—at least for now, no one intended to kill Hoffa.
Mariggio also prepared to leave.
"Luca, Hoffa is moving too fast right now. We support his candidacy, but he can't be this extreme."
"Uncle," Luca replied calmly, "how many people actually support Hoffa becoming chairman? Frank Fitzsimmons is far more obedient. Everyone knows who the easier choice is."
Mariggio's expression grew complicated.
"Hoffa is our friend—you heard Tony earlier. But yes, Fitz is more suitable in many people's eyes because he's easier to work with. To him, the union is just a tool. Hoffa, on the other hand, treats the union like his home."
"He'll invite us inside—but he won't hand over the keys."
That was the difference.
These words might sound cold, but that was the reality of the Mafia.
They made friends widely—but only as long as their interests weren't threatened. Once those interests were at risk, even long-time friends like Hoffa could be eliminated without hesitation.
What made it even more tragic was that, in the original story, the one who carried out Hoffa's execution was the painter—his most trusted friend.
When Hoffa turned his back without any suspicion, the painter drew his gun and shot him in the back of the head.
No one could truly know how much he struggled before pulling the trigger.
"Peace," Mariggio said softly as he embraced Luca. "Shaking hands and resolving this is the best outcome. It's what everyone wants to see. Luca, you can do it, right? Get Hoffa to back down. Meet some of his demands, and everyone can compromise."
But Hoffa wanted the chairman's position.
Luca's gaze darkened.
If Hoffa became more aggressive—if he started using union funds to pressure the Mafia—then things would spiral out of control. And that hot-tempered, stubborn old man was absolutely capable of doing something like that.
"I'll handle it," Luca said quietly.
He didn't want to see an execution order either.
---
After Frank Fitzsimmons had someone blow up Hoffa's friend's yacht, Hoffa retaliated by having someone blow up Fitzsimmons's car.
Back and forth they went, trading explosions—but both sides held back. These were warnings, not kill shots.
Because once someone actually died, negotiations would be over.
The man Hoffa hired for the bombing wasn't Frank. Hoffa knew Frank wanted to stay neutral and wasn't keen on that kind of work.
So he found someone else—from Detroit.
Philadelphia, inside a hotel.
Hoffa raised his glass, laughing.
"Bobby, tell me—what was Fitzsimmons's face like when the explosion hit? Did his legs go weak? Did he almost piss himself?"
The man across from him was a black-haired white man named Bobby Marcel, once a notorious street thug in Detroit before leaving home to make his own way.
Bobby had been adopted by Ms. Mercer, a well-known philanthropist who took in orphans. Unfortunately, he had been too much of a troublemaker for any other family to accept, so she ended up raising him herself.
Arrogant and domineering by nature, Bobby respected very few people in his life—his mother… and Hoffa.
"Uncle Jimmy," Bobby said confidently, "if you want, I can take care of that fat guy myself. Clean job. No one will trace it back."
Hoffa rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Maybe they won't find you—but they'll come after me anyway. I'm just sending a message. Let him know I'm not someone to mess with."
At that moment, Hoffa received a call.
It was his wife.
She had been fired by Frank Fitzsimmons.
Hoffa's expression instantly darkened. His beard bristled, his eyes flared with rage.
"That bastard Fitz! That son of a bitch!"
Bobby leaned forward. "I can make it even cleaner."
"It's not about evidence!" Hoffa snapped. "They don't care about evidence!"
He clenched his fists, then grabbed the phone and vented to Frank for a long time before finally calming down.
Thinking back on his recent campaign tour, his mood worsened.
From New Jersey to Philadelphia, Atlantic City to Baltimore, and even Washington, D.C., he had received nothing but vague answers.
Everyone smiled. Everyone said they "supported" him.
But when it came to actual action—they hesitated.
And the most absurd part?
The drivers weren't backing him.
They weren't backing Frank Fitzsimmons either.
They were backing Luca.
The Dove of Peace.
Hoffa found that completely unbelievable.
After a long silence, he open the cell phone and said, "Frank… come with me to New York."
"I need to meet the Dove."
---
Early April.
The meeting was finally arranged at the SSR Club in New York.
Hoffa arrived with Frank and Bobby—but Bobby wasn't allowed into the meeting and was sent to wait at the bar instead.
Luca had a waiter escort him away.
Watching Bobby leave, Luca narrowed his eyes slightly.
How did this guy end up with Hoffa?
Same temper, maybe.
Same fire.
A panel appeared:
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Character Card Discovered: Bobby Mercer (Unlocked]
[Rank: A]
[Source: Four Brothers]
[Skills: Vengeful Vanguard; Eldest Son of the Family]
[Bond: Strangers]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
After thinking for a moment, Luca recalled the story—Detroit, a murdered mother, a funeral, and a brutal revenge that ended with a crime boss dead.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Then he turned and walked into the cigar room.
Silver Queen cigars were neatly arranged around him.
He sat down across from Hoffa and Frank, then smiled.
"Welcome."
"Do you see these Silver Queens? Every leaf carries the scent of peace."
"Let's make sure something actually comes out of that today."
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