In early November, two months had passed—from Gennaro's arrest, to his sentencing, to the Alliance fully unifying Boston—and during that time, Luca's gasoline business spread across the entire city alongside the Alliance's expansion, flourishing throughout the Northeastern New England region.
During this period, Billy rarely saw Luca. The Dove of Peace spent most of his time in New York handling other matters, like opening new channels with the Russians and laying the groundwork for the gasoline tax business on the West Coast. Sooner or later, Luca would have to head to Los Angeles. On top of that, he'd already reached out to local Mafia groups in Miami, New Orleans, Chicago, and beyond, sending his people to establish joint operations.
By now, Luca had built a reputation in multiple regions. First Detroit, then Boston's Irish gangs—his track record spoke for itself. Within the Mafia Commission, he had become a heavyweight, someone with real influence. Most families didn't want to cross him; if Luca extended a hand, they took it and did business. No one wanted to end up like the Anguilo family.
Everyone could see it clearly now—his nickname might be "Dove of Peace," but in reality, he was a bird of prey. A carnivore. Wherever he went, only his allies thrived; everyone else either died or disappeared into prison. Best not to provoke him.
Even Pushkin, hiding all the way in Russia, had been taken out without a trace. So what could anyone realistically do about Luca?
Because of that, his operations ran smoother than ever. Over the past few months, he'd begun connecting with Mafia families across the country, his influence spreading beyond the East Coast and Midwest, reaching nationwide.
Just a few days ago, in Little Italy, Bronx, New York, Luca's furniture store had been renovated and officially reopened. Big names from across New York showed up to celebrate. Billy even made time to travel there personally—to attend the opening and report on Boston.
It was his first time in Little Italy.
The moment he stepped into the neighborhood, that familiar sense of ease washed over him. Every day without the Dove of Peace, he'd felt its absence—that quiet, unshakable security, like as long as Luca was around, nothing could go wrong.
Once he entered the club, that feeling only deepened.
Guided by the concierge, Ole William Sommerset, Billy made his way to the bar and waited. From there, he saw all kinds of people: Leon sitting at the bar drinking milk, John Wick beside him with a drink in hand; a blonde man being dragged into the casino by a little girl; another young man in a dealer's uniform—who looked eerily similar to Officer Sullivan—heading inside as well.
(TN: For people who forgot, person who looked similar to Officer Sullivan is Mike McDermott from movie The Rounders)
And then, unexpectedly, Billy spotted Robert.
The man sat quietly by the window, reading a book and sipping coffee. Billy recognized him from the charity gala—a friend of the Dove. But what was he doing in Little Italy?
Billy walked over and struck up a conversation, only to learn that Robert had moved here after the gala.
"I love the atmosphere here," Robert explained. "People in Little Italy—Italian or not—they're all friendly."
He still remembered when he first moved in, buying household items. The store owners refused to charge him the moment they heard he was a friend of the Dove. It left him genuinely touched.
This was the first place he'd ever seen where someone was respected to that extent—where even their friends benefited from that goodwill.
And among everyone here, aside from the Dove of Peace himself, the most popular figure was the owner of the newly reopened furniture store. Whenever Luca wasn't around, it was that Chinese man who kept Little Italy peaceful.
After two months, Robert's weary soul had finally found a place to rest.
"I hope this peace lasts," he said quietly. "No drugs, no girls being dragged into prostitution—just people living normal lives."
Billy listened and thought to himself: one day, Boston would be like this too. Even if he couldn't reach Luca's level, he could still control the gangs and keep the underworld stable.
While they were talking, Luca entered the bar. After discussing Boston matters with Billy, he brought him on a tour of the club, then walked him through the streets of Little Italy.
Along the way, Billy noticed something striking—everyone knew Luca.
Kids running in the street, elderly folks walking their dogs, even passing pedestrians—they all greeted him warmly. Patrol officers even stopped their cars just to chat.
The Dove of Peace was respected by everyone here.
Billy couldn't help but compare—it didn't feel like he commanded that same level of respect back in Boston.
"Uncle Luca!"
A boy around seven or eight ran up, clutching a basketball. "Wanna play?"
Behind him trailed a group of teenagers—Black, white, all of them looking at Luca with admiration.
In Little Italy, Luca was practically a godfather.
A panel appeared before his eyes.
[Character Card: Calogero Anello]
[Rank: B]
[Source: A Bronx Tale]
[Skill: Gangster Worship]
[Bond: Familiar]
The kid—Anello—lived in what used to be Paulie Cicero's territory. Back then, Luca hadn't even known his name. Now, Paulie had been dead for over two years, and the boy had grown up a bit.
In the original story, Annu would've spent over a decade under the guidance of a local mob figure, treating him as a mentor and father figure, learning life lessons along the way—a coming-of-age story wrapped in a gangster film.
But now?
Luca's status had completely overshadowed that.
As the guardian figure of Little Italy, all of Anello's childhood admiration had shifted onto him.
Honestly, Luca had no idea how many kids saw him as an idol—or how many girls saw him as a dream man.
He patted the boy's head and smiled. "Isn't this the Bronx's most promising young baller?"
The boy flushed red with excitement. "I'm the best in my class! Even older kids can't beat me!"
"Then I'll have to see it myself," Luca said, before adding, "But I've got things to handle today. I'll come watch another time."
"It's a deal!"
"Deal."
The boy ran off, dragging his friends with him. Billy could faintly hear him bragging:
"Uncle Luca patted my head!"
"The Dove of Peace is gonna watch me play!"
"He's heard of me—Little Anello!"
Like it was the greatest honor in the world.
"Didn't know you were this popular with kids," Billy teased.
Luca's voice softened. "A few years ago, people called this place the Red Bronx—dirty, chaotic, poor. People lived in fear every day. That's all gone now. No one worries about getting robbed, and businesses don't worry about extortion."
Billy could feel it—the atmosphere was completely different.
"Out of curiosity… how much protection money do you collect here?"
Luca shook his head. "Now they come to me willingly. Whether they give a lot or a little—it's just a token. If they give nothing, that's fine too. The harder peace is to achieve, the more people value it."
He paused slightly.
"But that's for regular people and small crews. Anyone trying to run shady operations here still pays tribute."
Truthfully, Luca didn't care much about small-time protection fees. Even the smaller gangs didn't pay much—but paying something gave them peace of mind.
"If I ever stopped charging them," Luca added, "they'd probably panic."
Billy was impressed—but also confused. In Boston, he used both force and rules to keep smaller gangs in line. Without pressure, how would they submit?
"If I could reach your level one day," Billy said, "where just existing is enough… that'd be something."
"It's not that hard," Luca replied. "Show kindness to your friends, ruthlessness to your enemies, authority to your subordinates, warmth to your family, and peace to those who follow the rules. People will see different sides of you—and piece together who you are."
"For people like us, identity is just a calling card. A reminder of where we stand—and where we're going."
Billy fell into thought.
Before today, he'd never imagined the Dove of Peace was viewed this way by ordinary people.
But now?
He knew what he had to do.
Having gone from white-collar to underworld boss, Billy understood both sides—the police, the gangs, the rules of survival.
"I understand," he said. "I'll follow your lead."
"Good," Luca smiled. "Let our ambitions become the people's ambitions. Let's make Boston a place everyone wants to see."
[Bond: Close Friend]
"New York's got your back," Luca added. "I'll help you make it happen."
[Authorize Billy as a "Peace Envoy"?]
[Yes / No]
"Yes"
[Authorization Successful]
[Current Peace Envoy: Billy]
[Remaining Slots: 2]
The moment the authorization went through, an invisible aura spread from Billy.
He didn't feel anything himself—but Luca did.
Two similar auras now existed, resonating faintly. Billy's was about half as strong, half the range—and they didn't stack. When overlapping, Luca's still dominated.
A small disappointment.
If they stacked, a group of envoys could walk into any war zone and force peace—Middle East, Africa, anywhere. Warlords would be shaking hands in minutes.
Still, something interesting happened.
Pedestrians who had been indifferent to Billy before now seemed noticeably friendlier.
The envoy aura was already working.
"Why's everyone looking at me?" Billy asked.
"Because you're my friend," Luca replied.
Billy grinned. It wasn't bad—he even caught a few girls checking him out.
Maybe it was time to get a girlfriend… especially considering how often he'd been hanging around those gang bosses lately.
The next day, after attending the furniture store's opening, Peace Envoy Billy returned to Boston and called a coalition meeting.
The moment he stepped into the room, every gang leader straightened up instinctively—like they were reliving the fear left behind by the Dove of Peace.
Why does Billy feel… similar now?
Looks like the boss picked up some real tricks in New York.
Not long after Billy left, Bobby Mercer from Detroit arrived in New York. Luca authorized him as a Peace Envoy as well.
Since envoy effects didn't stack, it made sense to assign them to leaders operating in different regions.
Billy in Boston. Bobby in Detroit.
With the envoy aura, managing their territories would become much easier.
That left one slot.
Luca thought it over. He needed someone to stay in New York—a stable presence, someone who wouldn't follow him around.
The Watcher title also required tact, mediation skills… the ability to keep peace.
Looking at his roster of elite assassins, Luca felt a headache coming on. Great at killing, terrible at peacemaking.
After some thought, one name stood out:
Jimmy.
His most trusted lieutenant. A "goodfella." Vice president of the Teamster Local 560. The one actually running operations while Luca stayed hands-off. Jimmy also helped manage the gasoline business and had even set up a company to oversee Luca's growing empire.
The perfect candidate.
And just like that, the final slot was filled.
Three envoys.
Deployed.
To increase the number of envoys, the title itself had to evolve.
Peace Ambassador (Tier 3): Arbitrator
[Upgrade Requirements:
— 400 Skill Fragments
— Successfully mediate 4 medium-to-large-scale conflicts]
Luca read the requirements and let out a dry laugh.
"Guess they really want me out here saving the world."
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