Chapter 125 – Oh Hell Naw!

Two or three months could change quite a lot, and for Alexander, the period since his breakthrough with the Duel Operating System had been hectic, but surprisingly peaceful.

Not peaceful in the sense that nothing had happened; quite the opposite.

Industrial Illusions had been growing at a pace that would have been almost impossible to imagine when the company had first started. His responsibilities had multiplied. His social life had become considerably busier. The supernatural side of his existence had refused to disappear simply because he had other things to worry about, and yet, somehow, Alexander had managed to settle into a routine.

A strange routine, perhaps, but a routine nonetheless.

He woke up early, as usual. The alarm had barely finished ringing before he reached over and shut it off. For a few seconds, he simply remained in bed, staring at the ceiling while the pale morning light slowly filtered through the curtains.

There was a comfortable heaviness in his limbs.

He had slept well, and that alone felt like a minor victory these days.

With a quiet sigh, Alexander pushed himself out of bed and, after a short exercise routine, he headed into the shower, letting the warm water run over his body while his thoughts wandered through everything that had happened since the beginning of the year.

Industrial Illusions had continued expanding as the Canadian market had gone better than even Alexander had expected; to the point that Duel Monsters was now available across all ten provinces, and the player base had begun to grow rapidly. Children, teenagers, adults, and even older people had all started picking up the game.

That had been one of the more interesting things to watch.

Alexander had expected children and teenagers to become the primary demographic, but he hadn't expected grandparents to start learning the rules so fast; yet there they were.

People who had probably never touched a trading card game in their lives were now sitting around tables and arguing about monster effects and, more importantly, it had demonstrated that Duel Monsters had the potential to become something much larger than the niche hobby that many had originally envisioned.

That success had naturally led to another idea.

If Canada was going to have its own Duel Monsters Cup circuit, then why not make it part of the path toward the next Grand Prix?

Alexander and Industrial Illusions had already begun discussing the possibility of holding tournaments throughout all ten provinces and taking the Top 8 Duelists from those competitions into the third edition of the Duel Monsters Grand Prix.

The idea was still being worked out as there were plenty of logistical issues to solve like venues, travel, judges, security, prize distributions, broadcasting rights; and, perhaps most importantly, how exactly to structure an international qualification system without making the entire thing unnecessarily complicated.

Still, the possibility was there, and if everything worked out, the next Grand Prix wouldn't simply be another American tournament, but it could become an international one.

Alexander smiled faintly beneath the shower while thinking, 'That is something worth seeing.'

And Canada wasn't the only new market on the horizon.

The success of Duel Monsters, combined with Industrial Illusions' growing production capacity and requests from distributors, had convinced them to begin preparing for another expansion: Mexico.

That would bring its own challenges.

Different distributors. Different regulations. Different marketing strategies. And, naturally, another increase in production.

Naturally, that meant the company needed even more employees, again.

Alexander almost laughed when he thought about how different Industrial Illusions looked compared to when it had first started. 'Back then, expanding the workforce had felt like a major undertaking. Every new employee had seemed significant. But now? They are becoming part of the ordinary rhythm of the business. Hire more people. Expand production. Find more distributors. Increase tournament support. Then do it all over again.'

It was almost absurd.

Alexander had started all of this with an idea and a ridiculous amount of ambition, but now he had to worry about whether the company had enough people to handle its international expansion.

Life was strange.

The same could be said about the Inter-School Duel Monsters Championship.

The competition had officially begun, with states across the country holding their own Qualifying Phases.

Promethean Academy had entered its own team and, perhaps unsurprisingly, they had won.

Alexander hadn't exactly expected anything else.

The Duel Monsters Club at Promethean Academy had been his original testing ground. Those students had been among the very first people in the world to play the game, and many of them had been playing for considerably longer than almost everyone else.

They knew the rules. They understood the cards. And more importantly, they understood the fundamentals of the game at a level that most newer players hadn't had time to develop.

Then there was Ginny. Having her as one of the main members of the team had raised the overall level of the club considerably.

Alexander couldn't help smiling when he thought about her.

She had become frighteningly good, not that he was surprised.

Ginny had always been competitive. Give her something she could master, and she would throw herself into it completely.

Chuck was also technically part of the team, but as a reserve.

Not because he was weaker; quite the opposite. Alexander knew perfectly well that Chuck was a better duelist than Ginny and all of the other members of the team, even more so now that he had completely revolutionised his deck, which now revolves around Armed Dragon, with the cards from the new set of Booster Packs.

The reason he had chosen to remain a reserve was much simpler.

He didn't need the scholarship as his family was wealthy enough that winning the prize wouldn't change his life; some of the other students, however, genuinely needed that opportunity, so Chuck had decided to let them have it.

Alexander still remembered the conversation when Chuck had first brought it up.

There hadn't been any grand speech or attempt to make himself look noble.

Chuck had simply shrugged and said that someone else could probably use the money more than he could, and several other members of the club had followed his example, naturally with the approval of their advisor.

Alexander had found that decision particularly interesting.

Chuck had always been charismatic, but moments like that reminded Alexander that his friend possessed a genuine ability to lead people, not because he demanded attention but because people actually listened to him.

As for Alexander himself, he had attended the qualifying rounds without any official role, as he was simply there to cheer for his girlfriend and his schoolmates.

Of course, there had been another benefit, a rather selfish one. The large number of people playing Duel Monsters had allowed him to passively accumulate quite a bit of Duel Points and Duel Energy, and overall it wasn't exactly a bad way to spend a weekend.

Watch Ginny's matches. Cheer for Promethean Academy's team. Enjoy himself. And quietly become stronger without having to do much of anything. Alexander couldn't complain.

The supernatural side of his life had also continued.

Blade and Hannibal King still contacted him from time to time whenever they received information about possible rogue Duel Spirit activity.

Fortunately, most of those reports turned out to be false, as sometimes the supposed Duel Spirit activity was simply another thing mistaken for a supernatural phenomenon; other times, the situation was real but completely unrelated to Duel Monsters, and occasionally the threat was something far beyond Blade, Hannibal and Alexander's current capabilities, requiring the assistance of someone like Daimon Hellstrom.

Alexander had learned not to take such situations personally, as there were simply some things that he couldn't handle yet.

But every now and then, the reports were genuine and a rogue Duel Spirit would actually be involved, and when that happened, Alexander had little choice but to deal with it himself, usually through a Shadow Duel.

Those encounters were rarely pleasant. They were dangerous, exhausting, and occasionally downright terrifying, and while Alexander had gotten better at dealing with them. But that didn't mean he had started enjoying them. Still, compared to everything else that could have happened, Alexander supposed he could call the last few months peaceful, at least by Marvel standards.

He shut off the shower and stepped out.

After drying himself and getting dressed, he left his bedroom and headed downstairs.

The familiar smell of breakfast reached him before he even entered the kitchen.

Roland was already waiting for him.

"Morning," Alexander greeted.

"Good morning, Master Alexander."

They sat down for breakfast, following the same routine they had established for years now.

The television played quietly in the background, tuned to a news channel, but neither of them paid much attention to it, at least not at first.

Alexander was halfway through breakfast when the anchor's voice changed enough to catch his attention.

"...the seventh day of jury deliberations began this morning in the trial of four Los Angeles police officers charged with assault and excessive use of force in connection with the beating of motorist Rodney King..."

Alexander froze as his hand stopped halfway toward his plate and for a moment, his brain seemed to refuse to process the words, Rodney King.

Then his eyes slowly moved toward the television. The screen showed footage from the trial.

Alexander stared.

The name was familiar, far too familiar.

The television continued speaking.

The trial, being held in Simi Valley in neighbouring Ventura County, had received extensive national media coverage. The four officers, including a sergeant, were facing charges brought by the Los Angeles County District Attorney.

Alexander barely heard the rest as something about the date suddenly felt wrong.

No, not wrong, familiar.

His eyes shifted toward the calendar and saw April.

His thoughts raced, 'April 29...'

His expression changed before he exclaimed, "Oh, shit!"

Roland immediately looked at him, but Alexander barely noticed as his mind was already racing backwards through his memories, 'April 29, 1992... The trial... The date... The verdict... Rodney King... And then the fucking riots!'

Alexander's stomach dropped.

He had been so focused on Duel Monsters, Industrial Illusions, the Championship, his relationship with Ginny, and everything else happening around him that the date had simply slipped past his attention, until now.

It was one of those moments where the knowledge of history stopped being abstract.

He knew what would happen. He knew what came next. He knew how quickly everything would spiral out of control; But knowing something would happen and actually realising that it was about to happen were two very different things.

"Alexander?"

Roland's voice cut through his thoughts.

Alexander looked at him.

Roland's relaxed expression was gone. His eyes had sharpened, immediately recognising that something had happened, so he asked, "What is it?"

Alexander glanced toward the television, then back at Roland before he said, "I just remembered something."

"What?"

Alexander hesitated for only a moment. "The trial they're talking about."

Roland waited.

"That's the Rodney King trial."

Roland's expression became more serious as Alexander continued, "The verdict is going to be announced today."

There was a brief silence as the words seemed to hang between them.

Roland's gaze shifted toward the television, and he asked, "And?"

Alexander swallowed. "And when the verdict comes out, Los Angeles is going to explode. All the tensions, all the resentment accumulated through these years by the various communities will literally violently burst out..."

Roland stared at him.

Alexander quickly explained what he remembered.

The trial. The officers involved. The intense public attention surrounding the case. The video of Rodney King's beating that had already become infamous. And, most importantly, what followed the verdict. The unrest. The protests. The violence. The fires. The destruction. People would be hurt, a lot of them. Buildings would burn. Businesses would be destroyed. The city would descend into chaos for almost a week. And it was going to happen today.

Alexander's voice became increasingly urgent as he spoke, despite his best efforts to keep himself calm.

He wasn't recounting some distant historical event anymore. He was describing something that was going to happen outside his own front door.

Roland remained silent for several seconds.

He had heard Alexander talk about the possible future before, but this was different.

This wasn't some distant historical event; this was happening in their own city.

"When?" Roland finally asked.

Alexander frowned and asked, "What?"

"When will the verdict be announced?"

Alexander tried to remember; he could picture the news reports, the crowds, the fires, the chaos, but the exact time? Nothing.

"I don't remember the exact hour," he admitted. "I think it was sometime in the early afternoon."

Roland immediately began calculating before he said, "So we have several hours."

"Probably."

Alexander looked back at the television.

The news report continued playing. The anchor discussed the possibility of demonstrations and increased police presence.

Alexander's jaw tightened while thinking, 'Several hours. That isn't much... But it is at least something.'

Roland leaned back slightly. "Then what are you planning to do?"

Alexander didn't answer immediately; he stared at the television for another few seconds, 'That is the question, isn't it? Usually, the future had been something distant, something I could approach carefully. Something I could change one small piece at a time. But this is different. There are thousands of ordinary people who have no idea what is coming. People going to work. Children going to school. Families running businesses. People who will wake up expecting an ordinary day and discover that their city has suddenly become a battlefield...'

Alexander slowly clenched his fist beneath the table.

He didn't know if he could stop everything. Honestly, he wasn't even sure whether he could make much of a difference.

History was enormous, and he was one person.

Even with everything he had accomplished, there were limits to what he could realistically control, but that didn't mean he could simply sit there.

Roland was still watching him, waiting for his response.

Alexander finally exhaled, "I don't know yet."

Roland raised an eyebrow.

Alexander looked at him and declared, "But I'm not going to pretend I don't know what's coming."

His eyes returned to the television.

The footage changed. Crowds. Police. A city unaware that its next few days were about to become infamous.

Alexander felt a cold knot settle in his stomach. 'I have been given knowledge of the future for months, and I treated that knowledge as an advantage to ensure my and my beloved's safety; now, for the first time in a long while, it feels like a responsibility... And I have absolutely no idea how difficult actually changing the future will be or even if I can at all. But should I give up just because of that and let many people suffer when I can at least try to do something about it?'

Shortly after asking himself that, Alexander exclaimed, "Oh hell naw!"

Roland blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. "What?"

Alexander stood up. "Get ready, Roland... We've got a hell lot of work to do."

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AN: If anyone is curious or has doubts, the Los Angeles Riots of 1992 are actually a canon event in the Marvel Universe.