Chapter 58: A New Rare Card

July 27th, three days before the grand opening of the SSR Club.

New Jersey, the stronghold of the Narcotics Squad.

Looking at the disheveled man standing before him, Richie Roberts wore a rather peculiar expression. It had been a long time since he last saw McClane, and he never expected the two of them to meet in a place like this.

Ever since that incident in Times Square, McClane had spiraled further downward, ultimately resulting in an indefinite suspension from the police department.

Whenever he figured his life out, he could come back to work.

At that time, Richie hadn't even stumbled upon the one million dollars yet, and McClane had already "retired from the pugilist world" a step ahead of him.

And now, was he coming out of retirement? But why come looking for him?

McClane cursed irritably, "I'm going to wipe out those drug dealers in New York!"

Richie: "......"

David Mills teased, "Man, what kind of trauma did you suffer? You're even angrier than I am."

McClane took a deep breath and recounted some of his recent experiences, leaving Richie and David exchanging glances in astonishment.

Someone drove right up to his front door and blew up his car?

Was it Frank? Or one of his distributors?

"That certainly sounds like something those drug dealers would do," Richie sighed.

He had uncovered evidence that previously in Harlem, in broad daylight on a crowded street, Frank had executed a black rival in cold blood.

The muzzle pressed right against the forehead, a point-blank headshot resulting in instant death.

Countless people witnessed the scene—Frank eliminating a foe while simultaneously establishing his dominance among his underlings.

Yet in the predominantly black neighborhood of Harlem, this incident failed to cause a single ripple. The police acted as if they saw nothing, and no case was ever officially opened.

This only deepened Richie's disillusionment with the police department.

So, what was a car bomb? Even if he were to stumble upon McClane's corpse the next day, Richie wouldn't even find it surprising.

"Roberts, I know you're investigating those drug dealers."

McClane stared fixedly at Richie with a determined gaze. "I can help. As long as we can take down those New York drug dealers, I'll do whatever it takes! Those damn bastards—when they beat me, I held back and didn't fight the first time, but they threatened my wife and child, crossing the absolute line. I can never forgive them!"

The hatred in his voice was so intense it almost pierced the eardrums of Richie and David.

As the leader, Richie had the authority to handpick his teammates, even if they weren't cops—his team already included quite a few rough-and-tumble operatives from the underworld.

Faced with McClane's request, Richie extended his hand. "Welcome to the team."

He was well aware of McClane's illustrious combat record. With such a fierce warrior joining their ranks, he felt even more confident in winning the drug war.

......

The Bronx, Marligio's bar.

"Luca, haven't you succeeded yet? Did you run into some trouble? You can tell me about it."

Marligio poured Luca a glass of alcohol. "In the past, you would have finished an assassination mission like this within three days at most. Why is it taking so long this time?"

If I really wanted to kill Richie and Galante, they'd already be dead... Luca shook his head. "Roberts isn't in New York; he's hiding out in New Jersey. The narcotics squad he leads operates independently of the local police, functioning as a DEA-established special operations task force. The federal government attaches great importance to it and has dispatched quite a few people to assist them. I haven't found a suitable opportunity to strike yet."

"Didn't Richie collude with Galante? I'm planning to make my move when they meet—kill two birds with one stone!"

"Sounds a bit troublesome," Marligio frowned. "Dominic asked about the progress last night, and I didn't even know how to explain it..."

When Dominic called last night to inquire about the status, Marligio could only spin excuses, saying the targets were extremely difficult to deal with and Luca was still looking for an opening.

Judging by Dominic's tone at the time, he seemed somewhat displeased.

Marligio: "Luca, should I send a few more hitmen to assist you?"

Luca put on a proud air. "Hitmen always operate alone. I certainly wouldn't trust leaving my back to those clumsy clods."

Marligio: "......"

Fine, fine, you have your Assassin's Creed, but you still need to finish the mission for me!

......

"You have to give me a deadline," Marligio said in a low voice. "Dominic doesn't have that much patience... Roberts has already crossed the line. His investigations have become a terrible nuisance to all the major drug lords in New York. Everyone will not tolerate him continuing to challenge the bottom line."

Luca frowned slightly. It seemed his delaying tactics had come to an end. How many days had it even been, dammit?

"I'll do it as soon as possible," Luca said.

"Good." Marligio nodded, then brought up another matter. "When the club opens, Dominic will be coming as well. Luca, you need to perform well. This is a great opportunity to gain Dominic's recognition."

Luca grinned, flashing a row of bright white teeth. He would definitely have to roll out the red carpet for the second boss, then.

.......

Two days later, nighttime.

Brooklyn.

There was a nightclub called "Joe and Mary's" here, a frequent haunt of Carmine Galante, the boss of the Bonanno family.

Richie and his group stepped out of their car and headed toward the club's entrance.

"Roberts, we'd better be careful. These mafiosos are ruthless monsters who eat people without spitting out the bones. Cooperating with them is like bargaining with a tiger for its skin!"

McClane issued a stern warning.

When he found out Richie and his team were collaborating with the mafia, he was completely stunned, and couldn't help but admire just how audacious Richie really was.

The Bonanno family was once the largest drug-dealing clan in New York. For the narcotics squad to team up with them to take down the current reigning drug kingpin... at first glance it might seem fine, but McClane could smell a thick stench of danger.

Richie shook his head. "Our current enemy is Frank. That guy has turned New York upside down, to the point where even the mafia can't stand it... McClane, I need more strength to help me get rid of Frank, just like how you joined."

David shrugged. "Although the mafia aren't good guys either, they respect rules more than Frank does... Sometimes I actually miss a peace-loving mafioso; that guy was a total anomaly."

Richie: "......"

McClane was also left speechless. Thinking back to that night, he felt he must have been truly drunk to pour his heart out to a pigeon like that, spilling so many inner thoughts.

It was too bizarre. He always felt that guy was deeply trustworthy, and once the alcohol hit his head, his mouth just wouldn't stop. Still, the guy hadn't been wrong about one thing: catching a few petty street dealers was merely drinking poison to quench thirst, utterly incapable of completely crushing those lunatic kingpins.

The three of them, along with several other police officers, walked into the club. By the pool on the upper floor, they met Carmine Galante puffing on a cigar.

Nearby stood several bodyguards and numerous mob members, who looked completely unfazed upon seeing police officers.

This wasn't the first time the two sides had met.

After sitting down, Richie and Galante discussed the situation regarding Frank's "patrons"—the individuals bribed by Frank using voters and funds.

Galante guaranteed that his faction possessed far more leverage than Frank, and when the time came for trial, Frank wouldn't hold a single advantage.

The judge would raise his little gavel, and the scales of justice would tip in Richie's favor.

.......

Meanwhile, on the street opposite the club.

Luca checked his gear while communicating with Leon in the passenger seat. "Another lively night... Leon, today's mission is a bit complicated. Make sure you don't mess up when we make our move later."

Tonight's objective was to carry out an execution order here. Since they had accepted the job, they still had to put on a bit of a theatrical performance.

By the way, they could also farm affinity with these rare cards and deepen their bonds.

"Got it." Leon looked at the photographs in his hand. One of them was Carmine Galante, the big boss of the Bonanno family, while the other photos featured Richie, David, McClane, and the others.

Luca smiled warmly. "Now that all the actors are in position, Leon, you're an experienced director yourself. Make it look natural when you add some extra scenes, don't leave any flaws, and most importantly, don't hurt our leading men."

Director... Leon wore a speechless expression. As if you aren't the one who loves pulling off all sorts of bizarre stunts.

"Oh, and by the way," Luca reminded him, "stay away from that balding McClane."

Your cheat ability isn't nearly as abstract as his.

"Understood." Leon didn't ask any further.

Luca was very satisfied with Leon's crisp and efficient style—he did whatever he was told, added scenes precisely as instructed, and never caused unnecessary complications.

Now that was a mature and steady hitman.

"Leon, the club opens tomorrow. As our club's head of security, remember to leave an unforgettable impression on our guests."

"......"

Leon helplessly twitched the corner of his mouth.

They had agreed it was just a class teaching people how to care for Chinese evergreens, but as time went on, it somehow turned into becoming the head of security, and he had even become on familiar terms with quite a few of the club's employees.

Thinking of this, the arc of the smile at the corner of Leon's mouth became even more pronounced.

Hanging out with all these people at the club every day, it felt... pretty good?

The elegant and gentlemanly Jimmy, the lively and precocious Mathilda, and that car-loving Brian, who kept saying he wanted to take him out street racing and picking up girls.

Occasionally, he'd run into Jordan coming to the poker table to throw away money, losing hundreds of thousands at a time, then leaving the club swearing and shouting obscenities, only to return fully revived a few days later, vowing to win back everything he lost.

He thought Denham the FBI agent wasn't bad either, except he always liked to sit alone at the bar drinking coffee with must-add five spoons of sugar.

Didn't it taste sickeningly sweet?

As a hitman, Leon possessed exceptional powers of observation, allowing him to notice and remember many tiny details others overlooked.

For instance, whenever the pigeon was about to stir up trouble, he always loved dressing himself up extremely handsome, making it look like he was going out on a date...

Take right now, for example. Luca was adjusting his hairstyle in the rearview mirror, muttering under his breath, "Leon, tonight we're going to put on a John Wick-style action..."

It had been so hard to gather so many rare cards in one place; they definitely had to make a stunning entrance with an unforgettable image.

Luca: "Remember, move fast, strike a pose with style~~~ For instance..... What the fuck?!!"

Luca's exclamation of surprise caught Leon's attention. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, a group of Japanese individuals dressed in black had suddenly appeared.

Luca had seen this group before—at the Red Flower Restaurant!

And leading them were two unfamiliar women.

One was a black-haired Asian woman; the other was a blonde white woman wearing an eyepatch, revealing only a single eye.

[Rare Card Discovered: Elle Driver (Locked)]

[Elle: A]

[Origin: Kill Bill]

[Skills: Snake Bite; Poisonous Eye]

[Bond: Stranger]

......

[Rare Card Discovered: O-Ren Ishii (Locked)]

[O-Ren Ishii: SR]

[Origin: Kill Bill]

[Skills: Snow House Zen Mind; Viper's Strike; Asura's Blade]

[Bond: Stranger]

The Deadly Viper Assassination Squad??

How on earth did the Red Flower Restaurant connect with this assassination organization?

Motherfucker! Truly deserving of being a killer world; all sorts of random assassins were crashing the party!

Luca muttered under his breath, "Damn it! That bastard Bill! Let's hope that yellow-suited female war god isn't married yet..."

If nothing went wrong, that yellow-suited female war god who wielded a katana, slaughtering her way from Japan to America and then from America to Mexico, was most likely another nearly invincible SSR card.

And she even mastered a powerful yet abstract style of Chinese kung fu......