The original plot was actually pretty straightforward: the Mafia puts out a bounty, gathers a swarm of assassins, and sends them after Buddy. Simple on paper—but in reality, it's a full-blown conspiracy. The assassins? Just pawns. Disposable pieces on the board.
The real target isn't Buddy himself—it's his heart.
That heart is meant to save an aging Mafia boss who's on his last legs. And this so-called "high-ranking figure"? He used to be FBI. Killed his own superior, had plastic surgery, changed his identity, and slowly worked his way into the upper ranks of the Los Angeles family.
At first, it was a win for the FBI. A perfect deep-cover operation. But somewhere along the way, he got addicted to the power. Stopped pretending. Started believing. In the end, he didn't just wear the role—he became Mafia.
It wasn't just his face that changed. His heart did too.
A complete failure of an undercover operation.
Now the FBI wants to "resurrect" him—literally—by facilitating this heart transplant. Their goal is to recover decades' worth of insider intelligence from a man who's been embedded for nearly sixty years.
"Turns out the FBI had agents buried inside the Mafia as far back as World War II… almost sixty years undercover."
Even Luca felt a chill crawl up his spine.
That meant for decades, this guy had been protecting Mafia interests, running operations, climbing ranks—and nobody noticed. Not the families. Not the Commission. Not even Luca himself, who had mostly focused on the East Coast and paid less attention to the West.
And then there was the photo.
Luca picked it up, studying the face. It felt familiar, like something half-remembered, but no system panel appeared. That made sense—this man barely existed in the original storyline, and after altering his face and identity, even the system had trouble recognizing him.
Still, Buddy had changed things. In just two years, he'd gone from a nobody to a Vegas star, from invisible to impossible to ignore. And once he caught Luca's attention…
That was it.
Staring at the panel in front of him, Luca's eyes turned cold, a flicker of killing intent slipping through without restraint.
What started as a simple internal power struggle had now tangled itself with a sixty-year undercover ghost.
Didn't matter what side the old man was on now. Didn't matter if he'd truly defected or lost himself along the way.
Luca had already made up his mind.
This man had to die.
Second-in-command of the Los Angeles family. A position high enough to access the Commission, to hold secrets from countless major families spanning decades. Let someone like that live, and you're just asking for the entire house to burn down.
"You're already knocking on death's door, old man. Why not take a page from Gambino and just stay dead? You really think you're getting a new heart?"
This wasn't optional anymore.
The problem had to be erased at the source.
Buddy? Irrelevant. Let the FBI and those assassins fight over him all they wanted. Luca's real objective was the old ghost behind the curtain.
And this kind of job… couldn't be outsourced.
"This stays between me and Leon. No leaks. No loose ends."
Leon was his most trusted blade—the kind of man who didn't ask questions and never missed.
"No one's going to expect me to go straight for the number two."
With his target locked in, the killing intent faded from Luca's eyes, replaced by calm calculation.
Then another thought crossed his mind.
"Wonder if the system's going to pay out big for this one."
Hard to say. If the target were a true Mafia boss, the reward would be guaranteed. But this guy? Half traitor, half phantom. A walking paradox.
Schrödinger's mobster.
Before Luca could think further, the desk phone rang.
"Dove, Brian's here to see you."
Before meeting his superior the night before, Brian had been hyped about the Los Angeles trip. Now? He stood by the bar, restless, like a guy who just realized the vacation came with a side of doom.
Matilda hopped onto the stool beside him, chattering excitedly.
"Hey, blondie, what's fun in L.A.? Any good places?"
"Hollywood, I guess. People go there chasing celebrities. You got a favorite?"
"Celebrities?" she tilted her head, unimpressed. "Are they as handsome as Luca?"
Brian froze.
"…or more charming than him?"
"…"
He had no answer.
"You're comparing the Dove of Peace to movie stars? That's not fair to them," Brian muttered. "Even I look better than half those guys."
"So where's Luca taking you?"
"No idea. Wherever he goes, I go."
Brian gave up immediately. Trying to extract intel from a kid—yeah, that was desperation talking.
But the real problem kept gnawing at him.
If Luca was going after Buddy… what was he supposed to do?
If the FBI secured Buddy as a witness, the Mafia would take a massive hit. But if Luca moved first…
Brian felt the pressure building.
"Hey, pour me something strong," he called out.
The bartender didn't even blink—just filled his glass with straight eau-de-vie.
Brian stared at it. "You're not even gonna mix it?"
"Not strong enough?" the bartender asked, casually lighting it on fire.
Flames danced in the glass.
Brian: "…"
Yeah. That might actually kill him.
Right then, Luca walked in.
Matilda immediately pointed at Brian. "Luca! He said he's taking you to Hollywood to be an actor!"
Brian nearly choked, clapping a hand over her mouth. "That is not what I said."
"Not enough that you act in front of me every day—you wanna go pro now?" Luca shot back.
Then, casually: "Brian, ship my GTR over too."
"No problem." Brian nodded, then hesitated. "You planning to race?"
"Just transportation. Whether I race depends on the situation."
Translation: if someone annoys him, they're getting gapped into oblivion.
Luca leaned in, shifting the topic. "Truck drivers' union over there is getting hit hard. Gas, cargo—doesn't matter. Every week, someone gets robbed. This time, we shut it down."
He looked straight at Brian.
"You're a senior union member. Helping out shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Brian exhaled in relief.
So that's the reason. Good. As long as it doesn't clash with his FBI mission…
"Leave it to me. Keeping the peace is part of the job. What do you need?"
"I need you to go undercover. Get into the local street racing crews. Earn their trust."
Brian blinked.
"…You've gotta be kidding me."
He was already an undercover cop. Now he had to go undercover again?
"Relax," Luca said. "Nothing a few high-speed runs can't fix."
Brian had a very bad feeling about this.
Luca said nothing. He just silently hoped Brian wouldn't end up getting his teeth rearranged again for flirting with someone's sister.
By mid-August, Los Angeles felt like an oven you couldn't turn off. The heat hit different than New York—drier, sharper, the kind that baked straight through your bones—but at least you weren't digging your car out of snow six months out of the year.
Tucked near Chinatown sat a beat-up auto shop, the kind of place where the smell of burnt oil and old grease practically lived in the walls.
Dom—built like a brick wall and wearing a grease-stained white tanktop—rolled out from under a car chassis. He peeled off his gloves just as Mia walked over, a clipboard in hand and concern written all over her face.
"The suppliers are on us again, Dom," she said, trying to keep it steady. "Parts, service fees—we're behind on all of it."
"Tell them to sit tight," Dom muttered, not even glancing up from the engine. "We'll square it after the next job."
He leaned back into his work like that settled it.
Winning races wasn't cheap. Not at their level. If you wanted to hit the podium, you needed a monster—and monsters didn't come cheap. We're talking six figures just in parts. Nobody funds that kind of obsession on a nine-to-five. For crews like theirs, boosting shipments wasn't just an option—it was the business model.
Mia lowered her voice. "Things are heating up out there. Cops are cracking down hard. Maybe we should ease off for a while."
Dom didn't even hesitate. "Plan's already in motion. We don't hit the brakes now."
Before she could argue, the sharp scream of a high-rev engine tore through the air.
A lime-green Mitsubishi Lancer rolled into the lot, turbo whining like it had something to prove.
Dom raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Someone actually put time—and money—into that thing?
Then a second car slid in behind it—a sleek GTR, low and mean, idling with that deep, predatory rumble you felt more than heard.
Now that got his attention.
Dom straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag as he sized them up. The blond kid looked vaguely familiar—probably seen him at the races. The other guy? Different story. Calm, composed, dressed in black like he didn't need to try. Sunglasses on, a quiet kind of presence that made people notice anyway. A short-haired girl trailed along with him, taking everything in.
Brian stepped forward first, giving the place a once-over like he'd already judged it twice. "You guys do custom work?" he asked. "I'm looking for top-tier builds—imports, high-end parts. Don't bother showing me budget options."
Mid-sentence, his eyes landed on Mia behind Dom. For a split second, his composure cracked—just a flicker—but it was there. Then it was gone, mask back on.
"Money's not the issue," Brian added, shifting his attention back to Dom. "You good for it?"
Dom glanced at the cars, then back at the two men, measuring.
"Which one you want torn apart?" he asked.
Luca stepped forward, voice even, like he'd already made the call before arriving.
"Both," he said. "Everything gets upgraded."
[Character Card Discovered: Dominic Toretto (Unlocked)]
[Rank: SSR]
[Source: The Fast & Furious Series]
[Skills: Man and Machine as One, Bald God of War, Turn Enemies into Friends, Family Hero, Immortal Family]
[Bond: Strangers]
[Character Card Discovered: Mia Toretto (Unlocked)]
[Rank: A]
[Source: The Fast & Furious Series]
[Skills: Woman and Machine Coordination, Emotional Judgment]
[Bond: Strangers]
Luca studied the skills, a faint smile forming.
"Man and machine as one… guess that runs in the family."
Then his eyes landed on one particular skill.
Family Man.
For the first time, he saw something close to resurrection.
If the "Family Hero" needed them… they came back.
No questions asked.
No permanent losses.
Luca's smile deepened.
Yeah… I like this one.
"Looks like I've found my next peace envoy," he thought.
"If nothing else… that resurrection buff alone is worth it."
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