"Detroit… has a ticking time bomb."
Luca looked genuinely surprised, already realizing that whatever was about to erupt would definitely turn into a medium-to-large-scale conflict, because the Detroit riots lasted for five days and were extremely serious—many people died, thousands were arrested, the incident was exposed nationwide, and most of the city descended into chaos filled with looting and vandalism, forcing the government to deploy the National Guard and even the Army Airborne Division to suppress the unrest.
Still, compared to something like the theft of Federal Reserve gold reserves, its overall impact was far smaller, and discussing the death toll itself wasn't particularly meaningful, because although many Black people died, it still didn't carry the same weight as the death of Jimmy Hoffa.
The riots were sparked by a police raid on an unlicensed Black-owned bar, where excessive arrests led to clashes with surrounding Black bystanders and supporters, and as tensions escalated, a group of Black residents—emboldened by their numbers—forced the police to withdraw, after which the situation spiraled completely out of control, turning into widespread vandalism and looting that eventually escalated into a city-wide riot.
At its core, the root cause was the long-standing racial antagonism between Black and white communities.
From Luca's perspective, the whole situation felt absurd, because from an outsider's standpoint, history would eventually decide who was right and who was wrong, but all he cared about right now was the fact that this turmoil had completely shattered Detroit's fragile sense of order.
Sitting in his office with the faxed photos in hand, Luca thought for a long time, knowing that this kind of large-scale unrest couldn't be solved simply by eliminating a few "rare cards," since those individuals were merely a tiny fragment of a much larger storm.
So the real question was—how could he get involved?
After thinking it through, Luca decided that a personal trip to Detroit was necessary, and not just because of the riots, but also because his business had already begun expanding into the territory of Russell Bufalino, whose influence stretched across eastern and central Pennsylvania and continued northwest toward Detroit, Michigan, before extending further west to nearby Chicago—two cities firmly under Mafia influence, including control over the truck drivers' union.
Contact with the local Mafia was inevitable.
The Chicago Outfit, although no longer at its peak following the death of Al Capone from syphilis, still retained significant influence and remained a dominant force.
Detroit, however, was different.
The Mafia structure in the city was unusual, because instead of a single dominant family, there were multiple smaller families coexisting—similar to New York, but far weaker individually—so they formed a loose alliance, elected a representative leader, and collectively held a seat on the Mafia Commission.
Even combined, their strength couldn't match a single major family in Chicago.
Worse still, they had failed to establish absolute dominance over Detroit, as they were still actively competing with powerful Black gangs for territory and business.
Detroit had an overwhelming Black population, already exceeding 50% and projected to eventually surpass 80%, making entire districts overwhelmingly Black, and these communities were not weak—if anything, their strength was evident in their ability to ignite riots that shocked the entire United States, even limiting the Mafia's ability to assert control.
As for why riots were so often associated with Black communities?
It was like saying three Black men were sitting in a car—but asking who was driving, and the answer being police officers.
Luca believed the riots weren't simply about people "causing trouble," but were deeply tied to local Black gangs, who would never miss an opportunity like this to loot freely under the cover of chaos.
"It looks like I really need to go to Detroit and see this for myself," Luca said, putting away the intelligence as he made his decision, knowing that conflicts on this scale were rare and unpredictable, and that the riots, the Detroit Mafia, the assassination of Hoffa, and Bobby Mercer were all colliding at once.
Bobby Mercer, as a rare card, is powerful in combat, and with his presence alone, he could wipe out an entire Black gang, which made things even more complicated considering that he was surprisingly close to Hoffa.
Luca narrowed his eyes.
Picking up the phone, he called Léon and said, "Léon, plans have changed," before contacting Frank and instructing him to wait for further orders.
July 1st.
After handing over club operations to Jimmy, Luca personally led a group to Detroit, bringing along several Mafia subordinates as well as Keung and Brian.
Keung store is still under renovation, and Uncle Bill had already returned from his honeymoon, leaving Keung free from store duties, so his daily work now revolved around club security and maintaining order in Little Italy—a role he enjoyed immensely, constantly "farming fragments" for Luca.
With his chivalrous mindset, Keung believed in fighting evil and helping the weak, often using violence to counter violence, which earned him the nickname "Kung Fu Kid" in the Bronx after repeatedly beating groups of thugs until they were whimpering like kicked dogs.
As for Brian, ever since he learned that Luca had secretly acted as an informant during the gold heist and helped recover the gold, his admiration had skyrocketed.
"Jesus... I had Dove all wrong. That whole circus with Simon? That was a play? You've been sitting on that this whole time!"
"Dove, what are we heading to Detroit for this time?" Brian asked from the driver's seat.
"To talk business with the local Mafia about gasoline," Luca replied casually.
At the mention of gasoline, Keung's hands started itching.
"Ole Dove, once the store's done, I wanna drive trucks in my free time."
Luca smiled. "Just tell Jimmy. He'll handle it."
They set off in the morning and arrived in Detroit by evening, where Luca first met with Léon before arranging a meeting with the local Mafia boss, after which the group drove another eight miles north into Detroit's predominantly white suburbs.
Detroit's racial divide was stark.
8 Mile Road served as a clear boundary—north of it lay wealthier white neighborhoods with lower crime rates, while south of it crime increased sharply, with Black communities heavily concentrated there.
Along this boundary stood the "Birwood Wall," often compared to the Berlin Wall, built to enforce segregation policies tied to federal housing loan requirements.
Black residents were effectively barred from moving north, while white residents could freely enter the south, open factories, and exploit cheap labor, eventually giving rise to the cultural perception that "Black people don't cross 8 Mile," a notion that persisted and even became embedded in rap culture.
South of 8 Mile, gang influence split the territory into eastern and western zones.
The Mafia alliance controlled parts of the West End and some areas in the East, operating gambling, loan sharking, union infiltration, and limited drug trade, while major Black gangs dominated the East, focusing heavily on drug distribution.
Night fell.
Inside a restaurant in the northern suburbs, Luca met Joe Zerilli, the leader of Detroit's Partnership.
Zerilli was even older than Carlo Gambino and had ruled for decades, originally intending to step down but being persuaded to stay because the next generation wasn't ready.
Under his leadership, Detroit's Mafia had remained unusually stable, with minimal internal conflict despite operating in one of America's most chaotic cities.
After hearing Luca's proposal, Zerilli spoke bluntly.
"Luca, I don't recommend starting a gasoline business in Detroit. The truckers' union here is complicated, and we don't control it."
He explained that most union members were Black and tied to East Side gangs, describing them as undisciplined and difficult to manage—people who would accept generous contracts and benefits but constantly demand more.
Luca glanced at the aging Mafia members around Zerilli—men tied together by family and marriage, forming an alliance built as much on blood as on business—and understood why things felt so stagnant.
These men were old.
And they were fading.
Once their generation passed, Detroit's Mafia structure would collapse, their influence would diminish, and they would eventually be replaced by rising Black street gangs.
In the future, Detroit would have very few white residents, and the Italian Mafia would lose its voice entirely.
After some conversation, Luca shook his head with a faint smile.
"So you have no intention of cooperating? Even if I bring you profit?"
Zerilli replied hoarsely, explaining that Detroit was fundamentally different from New York, because low-end industries relied heavily on Black labor and couldn't avoid gang influence, meaning any gas station operation would require hiring Black workers, relying on Black drivers, and accepting risks like arson, theft, and forced price manipulation at gunpoint.
Luca nodded, understanding that his low-price gasoline strategy wouldn't work if he couldn't undercut competitors freely, especially since local gangs already had their own "arrangements" with gas stations, including protection money and violent suppression of outsiders.
Zerilli continued, describing how even children were being used in the drug trade—armed, untouchable by law, and moving through the streets like delivery drivers.
Another old man nearby added bluntly, "They're delivery drivers—drug delivery drivers."
Zerilli shrugged. "Kids not even ten years old want to join gangs, sell drugs, rob, kill—and they think it's something to be proud of."
Luca fell silent.
It sounded less like a city and more like a war zone where child soldiers replaced adults.
Zerilli's gaze turned heavy.
"Luca… bullets fired by children could kill just the same as bullets fired by adults."
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