Chapter 51: A Lifetime's Honor
Brian had never been one to settle down easily. In the original storyline, after his child was born, he retired quietly with his wife—wealthy, with a family, lacking for nothing. Yet, he still yearned, longed for the speed and passion, unable to forget the past that the wheels had crushed beneath them.
But now, this guy was still a greenhorn.
“Old Dove, when it comes to racing, I fear no one,” Brian’s eyes burned with fierce determination. “I accept this challenge!”
“Good.” Luca lifted his chin, pointing at Brian’s Mitsubishi, then turned around. “Get in your car and follow me.”
“Are we racing now?”
“No.”
Luca glanced back with a smile. “First, let’s upgrade your car. How can a top-tier racer go without a fully equipped ride?”
Brian’s eyes lit up!
The boss was generous!
[Bond: Familiar]
...
Luca spared no expense, giving Brian’s little green car a comprehensive upgrade—from the engine to the handling system, all top-of-the-line parts perfectly matched.
With the parts in hand, Brian happily went off to modify the car, while Luca called Jimmy. The two, dressed in suits, drove straight to a luxury hotel in Manhattan.
Sorel was temporarily staying there.
“Play along with me later, act the part,” Luca said.
Putting on sunglasses, he pulled out a fake FBI badge from his pocket. “Not bad, it looks pretty convincing.”
Jimmy shrugged. “I’ve got all sorts of fake IDs, but... are you sure they won’t recognize you?”
“They’re Swiss—they don’t know much about the New York Mafia,” Luca replied, pulling out a makeup kit. “Just to be safe, a little disguise. He won’t be able to tell… Want some too?”
Jimmy watched as Luca applied makeup to his face, transforming him into a different person in no time.
Being a hitman required learning a lot...
...
Inside the hotel suite.
Sorel unzipped a luggage bag, revealing it stuffed with cash—drug money taken from Aoki, which he planned to smuggle back to Switzerland and launder clean.
There was also a little extra gift.
Pulling out a bag of powder, a satisfied smile spread across Sorel’s face. These Japanese really knew how to handle business. Jordan had been dragging his feet, talking a lot without paying up. Traveling all the way to New York—did that arrogant bastard think he could fool him?
Luckily, he had plenty of other clients.
After securing the cash, Sorel was about to celebrate when a sudden knock came at the door.
Opening it, two men in suits stood there.
“FBI!”
Luca flashed his badge and, without waiting for Sorel’s reaction, roughly pushed him aside and stormed into the room.
Seeing the drugs on the table, Luca raised an eyebrow in surprise, then nodded knowingly. “Mr. Sorel, it seems I’ve interrupted your good time.”
Sorel scowled angrily. “What are you trying to do? Do you have a warrant? How dare you barge into my room!”
“If I really had a warrant, do you think you’d still be standing here talking to me?”
Luca signaled Jimmy to close the door, then boldly sat on the sofa.
“I’m Swiss, not a Republican!” Sorel calmed himself. “I know your country’s laws. The FBI has no authority over me...”
“This is America, not Switzerland,” Luca said softly, pointing to the sofa. “Sit down. You’re not on my arrest list. I’m just here to get some information.”
“I want to see my lawyer.” Sorel was uncertain of Luca’s intentions. “I won’t say anything until my lawyer arrives.”
...
The ability of American lawyers to twist the truth was impressive—but unfortunately for Sorel, this was Luca.
“Then it’s your choice,” Luca said indifferently. “You can come back to the interrogation room with me, sit on a cold bench in a cramped room, drink bitter coffee, and complain to your lawyer. Or you can sit on this soft sofa and chat comfortably with me.”
Sorel refused to cooperate or sit down. “I know your procedures. Don’t try to intimidate me. Even if you take me back, how long can you hold me? Less than 24 hours, and I’m out.”
He stared at the drugs on the table without a hint of fear. Taking a little coke was nothing—why would the FBI come after him for something so trivial?
“Sorel, you still don’t grasp how serious this is.”
Luca pulled out a recording device from his pocket. “We have ample evidence of your crimes... Want to hear it? Jordan has already confessed, implicating you. You conspired together in money laundering—at least a dozen cases. This evidence is enough for us to win in court. In your next life, you’ll be serving time in an American prison. Don’t expect your country to help you…”
For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed Sorel’s face.
Shit! That bastard Jordan! Damn you, you filthy bitch! Why’d you rat me out after getting caught?! I should never have come to America!
A trap! This was a trap set by Jordan and the FBI!
Suddenly, everything spun around him... and he hadn’t even started using drugs yet.
Seeing Sorel’s forced composure fail to hide his panic, Luca felt a strange absurdity. In the original story, Sorel was caught first and betrayed Jordan. Now Jordan was “betraying” Sorel in turn.
Fate, once again, twisted askew.
[Character Card: Jean-Jacques Sorel]
[Sorel: D]
[Source: The Wolf of Wall Street]
[Skills: None]
[Bond: Stranger]
Luca activated the recorder. Jordan’s helpless and despairing voice filled the room: “Sorel and I have been involved since two years ago...”
Jordan’s confession detailed everything—how they met, how they laundered money, how they cooperated... every detail laid bare.
Hearing this, Sorel was utterly defeated.
It was all true, even the damned adultery was mentioned! Damn Jordan!
“I was blind to partner with Jordan, no integrity whatsoever,” Sorel sneered, finally giving up his stubbornness and sitting down in front of Luca.
Luca: “...”
Like you wouldn’t have betrayed Jordan if you’d been caught.
You two are cut from the same cloth.
“Speak. What do you want from me?” Sorel stared at Luca. “You have all this evidence but haven’t arrested me. Is chatting in a hotel room more comfortable? Need me to call some women up for you?”
“Have you heard of Grenada?” Luca suddenly changed the subject.
“No.”
“Grenada is an interesting little island. In 1983, the US invaded it. The entire population of 90,000 offered no resistance to the American troops... What I mean is, you’re Grenada in front of the FBI.”
“...”
Sorel cursed under his breath.
“But the following year, Grenada restored its elections.” Luca changed the tape in the recorder. “See, it’s small, but to some extent, the US respects its autonomy—as long as it lets American warships sail past its doorstep openly.”
That’s no different from Japan or South Korea... But Sorel perked up, sensing a possible way out.
“Officer, please explain in more detail.”
“I need evidence of money laundering at the Red Flower Restaurant—account books, records—I believe you have them.”
Those words made Sorel’s heart leap. The FBI even found out about the Red Flower Restaurant?
Should he confess?
Sorel hesitated fiercely. Revealing this would give the FBI more evidence against him... but even without confessing, Jordan’s betrayal was enough to bury him.
...
He was no different than Grenada.
“Did you say this could reduce my sentence?” Sorel asked.
“Yes,” Luca nodded. “The more you confess, the more lenient the judge may be. You might just pay bail and spend your remaining years peacefully in Switzerland.”
Hearing this, Sorel resigned himself.
A few hours later.
He was a corpse.
Only one—Jordan or him—could survive.
Jimmy tossed the overdose syringe beside Sorel’s body and left with Luca.
Before leaving, they took the bag filled with millions in drug money.
[You and Jimmy have killed an international financial criminal, defending the peace of capital…]
[Skill Points +3]
[Current Skill Fragments: 68]
...
On the way back to the Bronx, Luca counted the money and handed it all to Jimmy.
“There’s about five million here. Clean it, give me four million. The rest is yours.”
“Old Dove, no one’s more generous than you.”
“You’re with me now.”
“Not just now, but always.”
“Jimmy, you have gray hair.” Luca looked at the silver strands at his temples, patted his arm gently. “If you grow old, who else trustworthy will I have at my side to do my work?”
Jimmy had been killing for the family since he was sixteen. Now in his forties, half his life was devoted to the Mafia. He was luckier than Old Zuo because he could do business and had money; yet tragically, he was almost impossible to become a formal member.
The code of silence had been Jimmy’s creed his entire life. Despite numerous stints in jail, the police never managed to extract a single word from him.
Jimmy embodied all the “excellent qualities” of the old Mafia generation—the ruthlessness and violence toward enemies, reverence and respect for the family, greed and demand for money, and the merciless exploitation of subordinates.
Had his bloodline been right, Jimmy might have climbed high in the family ranks.
[Spend 60 skill fragments to unlock “Emotional Corrosion”?]
[Yes/No]
Yes!
[Exchange successful, skill added]
[Emotional Corrosion: When you build bonds with your subordinates, each bond level increases their loyalty by an additional 5%; if the subordinate is an undercover agent and the bond reaches close friend, loyalty increases by an extra 10%]
[Remaining Skill Fragments: 8]
...
At this moment, listening to Luca’s casual concern, Jimmy humbly tidied his hair, a surge of gratitude welling deep inside.
Working under Old Dove was far better than being under Pauly Cicero.
Pauly was old now, and many in the family were aging.
Including himself, who no longer lived up to his former valor.
The Mafia’s future ultimately rested on young men like Luca.
Jimmy smiled: “Luca, even if I’m seventy or eighty with white hair, I’ll still drive for you, take you wherever you want to go. That will be my honor inscribed on my tombstone.”
[Bond: Close Friend]