New York, FBI field office. Joey Tai, always a striking presence in his white suit, carried that same mix of polished charm and something darker underneath—refined on the surface, dangerous if you looked twice.
Drop him into a boardroom drama as a domineering CEO and half the audience would fall for him instantly. Unfortunately—or fortunately—he wasn't a CEO. He was a New York mob boss.
As Joey stepped out of the building, several Triad members were already waiting. He slipped into the car without a word. The officials, at least, were fine; they'd been picked up that very night at the dock by higher-ups from the embassy.
The FBI hadn't stopped them either—no solid evidence, not even enough to list them as suspects. Arresting them would've created more problems than it solved.
Joey and his crew, on the other hand, were a different story. High-priority targets. Some of his men had records—robbery, extortion—and a few were outright wanted.
With no better option, Joey had cut off the tail to survive. It wasn't pretty, but it was still better than getting nailed by the Boston FBI for smuggling military chips.
The driver spoke up from the front. "Brother Tai, Mr. Huang said once we pick you up, we head straight to the SSR Club. We're continuing negotiations with Luca the Dove today."
"Still talking?" Joey frowned slightly. What was left to talk about? Did his father-in-law really think they'd compromise?
"…Let's go take a look." Joey wasn't convinced, but he needed to see it himself.
"Oh, right—Brother Tai," the underling added, "Costello's dead."
Joey blinked. "When?"
"Same night as the deal. Died at home," the man replied. "South Boston's a mess now. The Winter Hill Gang is tearing itself apart fighting for leadership. The Killeen Gang and the Mullens are jumping in to grab territory. Even the Boston Triads are getting ideas. Those Irish bastards played us—no way we let that slide."
Joey fell silent, genuinely surprised. He'd spent the past couple of days dealing with FBI pressure and lawyers; he hadn't even looked at the underworld situation. And now this? Things escalated fast.
His thoughts began to churn.
Eliminate the leader… seize the top spot.
Could he do the same?
The Italians. The Irish. They were experts at power plays. Ruthless, efficient, no hesitation. But the Triads were different—structured, restrained. Power wasn't absolute. Leaders could be checked, even removed.
And his father-in-law? Still firmly in control. Chinatown respected him. Hong Kong backed him. Removing him wasn't realistic.
Unless…
Mismanagement. No money flowing. Dissatisfaction spreading.
Joey exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down. Not yet. Not the time. He couldn't afford to show even a hint of ambition.
I'm still young. Plenty of chances ahead.
The car pulled up to the SSR Club. Joey stepped out, adjusted his suit, and looked up at the massive sign. Somewhere inside was another boss—young, but already more powerful than most mobs in New York.
At the entrance, he ran into Ma Hon Keung.
"Luca's sent me to pick you up."
"Appreciate it, Keung." Joey draped an arm casually over his shoulder, chatting about him and Uncle Bill like old friends. A man like Keung—solid background, strong ties, real skill—could've been a top enforcer in the Triads. Instead, he chose to stay with the Mafia.
Why?
The Italians would never fully accept him. Not really.
Keung just smiled. "Uncle Bill and I are doing fine here. Luca takes good care of us—he even invested in my furniture store."
Joey: "…"
Yeah. That explained it.
Inside the hall, something strange happened. The tension in Joey's body eased, the thoughts that had been racing earlier suddenly felt… trivial. Like they didn't matter as much anymore.
That's Weird.
Upstairs, in the conference room, Joey found Mr. Huang, Terrence Wei, and several hall masters already seated. On the table sat a box—the same "lost" chips.
Joey froze.
How the hell did those end up here?
After overhearing the explanation, it clicked. Costello hadn't just played him—he'd used fake chips for the deal.
No wonder the FBI didn't pursue it.
Luca leaned back slightly, smiling. "So… can we finally talk about smuggling cooperation like reasonable people? Consider these chips my gesture of sincerity."
The room went quiet.
For something they'd chased for so long to just… appear like this? It was surreal. And yeah, that counted as sincerity. A very expensive kind of sincerity.
Mr. Huang had no reason to refuse now.
Even if the smuggling profits were modest, the chips alone were priceless. In a gangster's hands, they might only fetch a few million—useless without application. But in the hands of the right institutions? Their R&D value alone made them worth far more.
The previously rigid terms from Chinatown melted away. Agreements came easily this time.
At the end, Joey couldn't help himself. "Luca… you know about Costello, right?"
Luca gave a faint smile. "He was alive and well when I dealt with him. Didn't expect him to end up dead at home a few days later. Life's funny like that. If I'd known he had ties to the Boston FBI, I wouldn't have asked him to source the chips."
Joey said nothing.
If Luca hadn't bought them, would Costello have sold them to someone else? If Joey had real chips when he got caught, would the FBI have let him walk?
The more you thought about it, the more it felt… inevitable.
Whether Luca had a hand in Costello's death didn't even matter anymore. Even if he did, he'd never admit it.
The deal was done.
Soon, shipments of new and used cars would start moving from the U.S. to Asia through Triad channels. One batch alone would clear eight figures in profit.
Before leaving, Joey lingered. He shook Luca's hand firmly.
"Dove, if you've got more business like this in the future, come to us. I respect your 'Keep the peace, keep the profits.' philosophy."
[Character Card: Joey Tai]
[Rank: S]
[Source: Year of the Dragon]
[Skill: Elegant Mask]
Effect: Maintain absolute composure and refined grace. When negotiating from a position of polished elegance, Charm increases by 1%–20% (scaling with presentation) and Enemy Hostility is reduced by 10%.
Requirement: Bond: Friend or above | Cost: 60 Skill Fragments
[Skill: Hongmen Chief]
Effect: Grants +10% Triad Trust and +20% Deterrence against all Chinese Triad organizations worldwide. Additionally, Subordinate Loyalty is increased by 20%.
Requirement: User must be a Triad Leader; Bond: Close Friend or above | Cost: 150 Skill Fragments
[Bond: Familiar]
Luca didn't even consider the second skill. Looks great on paper, sure—but how exactly was a Mafia guy supposed to become the head of the Triads?
The first one, though? That had potential. Charm boosts weren't exactly common, and they worked on everyone. Useful in business. Useful in… everything.
Joey Tai was worth keeping around. Smart. Capable. Ambitious—but only a problem if he got too deep into drugs.
That was the line.
In the original timeline, Joey killed his father-in-law, took over, and expanded through narcotics. He even went head-to-head with warlords in Southeast Asia, cutting deals, wiping out rivals—pure dominance. And then? The NYPD came down hard and wiped him out.
Classic rise-and-fall.
He'd tried to smooth things over with the police. Didn't work. Too stubborn on both sides.
Now? Different story.
That stubborn cop from before hadn't even shown up. With people like David and McClane around, things were… brighter. Louder. More dangerous.
Whether Joey could survive that kind of pressure? Hard to say.
If possible, Luca would rather keep drugs out of Chinatown entirely. Call it… settling an old debt for Uncle Bill.
With smuggling settled, the gasoline tax issue followed soon after. Abram had been busy—after long talks with the Russians, he finally arranged a meeting with Luca. Negotiations with Fat Tony were also progressing, and the Patriarca family agreed to sit down with the Lucchese family.
Everything was set for the SSR Club.
Before meeting the Russians, Abram gave Luca a quick briefing.
"Slavi works for Mr. Pushkin. Treat him as Pushkin's representative."
"Pushkin can't make it to New York?"
"Too sensitive," Abram shook his head. "Unless you go to Russia."
Luca nodded slightly. Pushkin wasn't your typical mob boss. More like a political oligarch with deep Mob ties—a top-tier collaborator.
Same type as Yuri's Army General relative.
Connections like that? Luca didn't have them. Not yet. Guys like David Mills or Patrick Denham—those were the ones operating at that level. He was still somewhere in the middle.
And that kind of umbrella mattered.
Without it, you were exposed.
Abram continued, "Slavi's closer to Pushkin than we are. He's basically a lackey. We're partners—East Coast collaborators. Pushkin will sacrifice him if it benefits him… as long as we meet his demands."
Satisfied?
Luca almost laughed.
We'll see who ends up satisfied.
He hadn't even played his real card yet. Once that particular "problem-solver" got moving, things wouldn't just escalate—they'd explode.
Honestly, even sending Baba Yaga wouldn't be as clean. Too many restrictions. High Table politics. Pushkin had influence there.
But someone like… the Equalizer?
No rules. No leash. No hesitation.
Luca remembered what happened in Italy—one man dismantling entire Mafia structures like it was a weekend project. Ridiculous.
Terrifying.
He'd already made up his mind. If negotiations failed, he'd just sit back and watch the fireworks. Let someone else wipe out the Russians in Boston.
But if a deal could be reached…
"What does Pushkin want?" Luca asked.
"That depends on how the meeting goes," Abram replied. "They'll definitely make demands. If you don't like them, we walk. We can give up Boston."
Luca understood immediately.
I have options.
Which means I don't have to bend.
Not for anyone.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Big Thanks to Gerard Steeghs and zach pilkington for becoming my P Knight, my cats eat a feast tonight.
If you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me on P Site/OrbisTranslate. Access 15 advanced chapters for just $3.
Additionally, I will release two bonus chapters for every 100 Stones received.