Chapter 17: What’s So Great About This Pathetic Times Square?
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Soon, a few officers spotted Luca, dressed in an elegant Italian navy-blue suit, his handsome and suave appearance unmistakable. The moment Luca appeared, the long lenses of many journalists and media cameras turned toward him. Many reporters mistakenly thought Luca was a police officer, curious how such a strikingly handsome figure, almost like an elven prince, could be found among the bizarre characters of the New York Police Department.
David recognized Luca. Wasn’t he the helpful neighbor they met at the murder scene in the Bronx apartment? Unaware of Luca’s Mafia affiliation, David smiled and shook his hand. “It’s you, that helpful neighbor… your suit looks sharp—I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Rich said, “Thanks for your cooperation.”
McClain added, “Buddy, thanks a lot, you really helped us out!”
Both Rich and McClain also shook Luca’s hand politely, expressing their gratitude for his assistance.
Luca smiled. “I’m glad to help the police. I just want to assist in solving the case quickly and restore peace to the neighborhood.”
Several officers wore friendly smiles; their impression of Luca was quite positive.
[Bond: Attention]
Pulling all at once to Attention, Luca was very satisfied—being a helpful citizen hadn’t gone to waste.
Only Old William subtly frowned. As a veteran detective of the NYPD, he knew exactly what kind of man Luca was. Rich had never met Luca before; McClain and his wife had just transferred back to New York from Los Angeles after a marital split, so they didn’t know him either.
“Greco, you live in the Bronx, right? How come you’re here?”
“I moved,” Luca explained. “A neighbor’s family had a death—a real bad vibe. I don’t like that kind of environment. Now I live near Central Park. I thought Manhattan would be safer, but I just moved here a few days ago and already ran into this.”
McClain, who was already having a run of bad luck, suddenly sympathized and complained, “Manhattan isn’t much better than the Bronx, and the housing prices are even higher.”
He felt New York was chaotic everywhere; there was no truly peaceful place—not even in the whole United States. Wherever he went, trouble followed. Well, it wasn’t his fault, it was the country’s.
Other officers thought Luca’s words made sense—after all, it was the truth—and instinctively wanted to agree. Even William, who knew Luca’s true nature, was tempted to concur.
New York hadn’t been peaceful lately... Wait! Something felt off. William suddenly paused. He was a cop—how could he so easily buy what a Mafia man was saying?
He rubbed his brow and asked again, “So, Greco, you just happened to be passing by on your way home?”
“Of course. I just picked up my sister from school… Oh, she’s in middle school now, and I still have to pick her up,” Luca said, turning to wave at a car not far away.
“Spencer Middle School, you know it? We just came from there.”
William noticed the cute little head poking out of the car window—Matilda, with bright, curious eyes looking over here. He smiled at Matilda, then looked back at Luca with a strange expression.
Although the idea of the Mafia helping the police was absurd... perhaps because of Matilda, or maybe because Luca hadn’t lied and had indeed assisted the police, William felt a subtle sensation inside, instinctively believing Luca’s words.
“Oh… alright.” William extended his hand. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Luca smiled and shook his hand.
[Innocent Disguise] + [Shameless Rogue]—these two skills worked perfectly together. As long as he didn’t babble nonsense or fabricate stories, it seemed easy to gain the police’s trust.
Then Luca bid everyone farewell, not delaying the police any longer, and quietly returned to his car to await the outcome of the incident.
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First, make a good impression with these rare NYPD cards. There will be plenty of chances to interact later.
Rich’s drug war, David’s seven deadly sins, and McClain’s Sherlock-like instincts… they would all get along in time.
A peace-loving ambassador who liked making friends wouldn’t stand idly by.
At that moment, several reporters and photographers approached.
“Excuse me, sir, are you a local New Yorker? What’s your opinion on the recent incident at Times Square?”
“Times Square? What’s there to say about that dump? Shootings happen all the time, I’m used to hearing police sirens every night in Manhattan. If I don’t hear them, I can’t sleep. Didn’t two shootings happen nearby just a few days ago? Hmm? You want to go on TV?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, hold on a moment—cut that last part...” Luca smoothed his hair, collected his thoughts, and smiled warmly as he spoke:
“This incident happened suddenly, and someone lost their life. I’m deeply saddened by that. But I want to emphasize that even in our darkest moments, we can see the light of hope.
First, I want to highly commend the New York Police Department for their swift response and professionalism. They evacuated the crowd and secured the scene immediately after the shooting. Such efficient action greatly protected the citizens’ safety… This fully demonstrates the training and sense of responsibility of the NYPD.
Times Square is not only a bustling landmark but also a symbol of peace… As John Lennon once said, ‘Give peace a chance.’
Gunfire should never become the soundtrack of our era!
As a peace-loving citizen, I always believe in valuing harmony and that justice and goodwill will eventually overcome fear…
… I support law enforcement’s work! Let us build a safer home with the belief in peace, and may the neon lights of Times Square forever illuminate the path of peace and hope.”
...
“What? Greco is Mafia? Or an assassin from the Continental Hotel?”
Hearing Old William’s explanation, the other officers exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions growing more stunned by the second.
Ward?
Did we just shake hands with the Mafia? And thank them?
William sighed and explained, “Luca Greco belongs to the Lucchesi family. His nickname is ‘Pigeon Luca,’ the Peace Ambassador. You know how strict those Italian families are. Greco’s rule is that he won’t tolerate trouble on his turf. He hates conflict and values peace above all. If you do honest business, he welcomes you…
Just kidding—sometimes he polices the neighborhood more strictly than we do. The crime rate in Little Italy has indeed dropped a lot.”
Rich: “...”
David: “...”
McClain: “...”
Mafia and peace ambassador—how on earth do those words connect?
Hearing peace spoken from a Mafia mouth was truly bizarre.
And the crime rate dropping—is that for real?
William added, “But don’t think he’s a good guy. He’s a killer with blood on his hands that can never be washed clean… He just operates very carefully, and the police have no evidence against him.”
Besides, neither the Continental Hotel nor the Lucchesi family is an ordinary police matter to provoke.
So William Sharmose didn’t want to stir up trouble with Luca.
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He was about to retire soon—better not create unnecessary complications.
Rich smiled gently, “I find myself kind of liking him. At least he doesn’t just talk; he really helped us a lot just now.”
The other officers wore complicated expressions, their feelings about Luca growing more ambiguous. Somehow, they didn’t harbor much resentment toward that smiling man.
Was he a “good guy”?
Just then, the SWAT team completed their operation and successfully apprehended the culprit.
But the culprit had slit his own throat beforehand, his body still fresh.
The police carried the body on a stretcher to find the victim, Stu, for confirmation.
Stu said, “I know him... He was a delivery guy, came to deliver pizza to me once, but I told him to get lost…”
“People these days are so mean,” someone nearby complained.
It turned out the conflict arose from a mere argument.
With that, the culprit’s identity was “confirmed,” and the sniper case was “perfectly closed.”
The officers smiled.
...
[You assisted the police in protecting the hostages and calming the crowd at Times Square… You defended the peace of Times Square.]
[Skill points gained: +5]
[Skill fragments gained: +2]
“That’s all the reward?” Luca, just out of the interview, expressed disappointment.
The low reward was because the real culprit hadn’t been caught yet.
Speaking of which, that guy was quite impressive—he’d even helped the police confirm the room number in advance, yet still managed to slip away.
Luca looked toward a man standing by the ambulance, carrying a suitcase and talking to Stu—who, after being injected with a sedative, lay helpless on the stretcher, forced to watch the real culprit strut right before him.
A cold smile crept across Luca’s lips.
That guy was the true culprit.
But the profile didn’t give a character card—maybe because this person appeared only briefly in the original story, with no name or identity, like a ghost.
That didn’t matter. Luca could still recognize him—not just his face, but also because this jerk had to swagger up to Stu to show off.
That amused Luca.
Showing off, huh?
Luca would make sure the culprit learned that villains often die from talking too much and showing off.
“Looks like the Peace Ambassador will have to take action personally.”
Luca touched the gun at his waist.
Without violence, how can there be peace?