Chapter 128 – Three Days

Bonus Chapter

The situation in Los Angeles had gone from bad to worse.

What had started as scattered protests and confrontations was rapidly becoming something much larger. Fires were appearing across multiple neighbourhoods. Stores were being looted. Businesses were closing their doors, some barely having enough time to get their employees out before the situation reached them.

The roads were becoming dangerous, and the emergency services were being buried beneath an avalanche of calls.

Alexander sat in the living room of the mansion, staring at the television alongside Roland, Ginny, Chuck, Julia, and their families.

The images on the screen were difficult to watch.

Burning buildings. Crowds running through streets. Police vehicles moving toward areas of unrest. Firefighters working under conditions that were becoming increasingly dangerous.

Alexander had seen these images before, not these exact images, perhaps, but he knew what they represented.

He also knew something that nobody else in the room did: that this was only the beginning; yet, despite everything happening outside, there was one major difference between this Los Angeles and the one Alexander remembered, the one they had prepared.

Several hours before the violence had reached this scale, Hugh had started making calls.

Roxxon executives had contacted government officials, emergency suppliers, transportation companies, security firms, hospitals, and practically anyone else who might be useful.

Industrial Illusions under Alexander's control had also activated its own emergency procedures.

Employees in dangerous areas had been told to remain home or move toward designated safe locations. Warehouses had been secured. Delivery trucks had been redirected. Vehicles that normally carried cards, equipment, and other merchandise were now being used for evacuation and supply runs.

Food, bottled water, medical supplies, generators, blankets, and other necessities were being moved toward shelters, and those shelters were beginning to fill.

Promethean Academy had quickly become one of the first organised civilian refuges.

Students and their families from dangerous areas were being brought there, but the school wasn't turning away other civilians simply because they weren't students.

Teachers and staff were converting classrooms into sleeping areas. Another section of the school had been turned into a temporary medical station.

People arrived frightened and confused, carrying whatever belongings they had managed to grab before leaving their homes and at first, everyone seemed unsure of what to do, but then the staff started organising them.

Soon enough, the school was operating less like an academy and more like a small emergency centre, and it wasn't the only one.

Churches were opening their doors. Community organisations were distributing supplies. Businesses with secure facilities were allowing civilians inside. Apartment complexes were organising their own shelters. Private facilities were being repurposed.

Alexander watched another report showing people arriving at one of those shelters.

For the first time since the violence had started, he allowed himself a small breath of relief.

His preparations weren't stopping the riots, but they were giving people somewhere to go when the riots reached them, and that may very well make the difference between life and death.

As Wednesday night turned into Thursday morning, however, the situation continued deteriorating.

The LAPD was stretched thin. Firefighters were being forced to operate in increasingly dangerous conditions. Hospitals were receiving a steady stream of injured civilians. Some emergency calls had to wait simply because there weren't enough officers, firefighters, or ambulances to answer all of them.

The California Army National Guard was supporting the police and assisting people seeking refuge, but even their presence couldn't instantly solve the logistical nightmare unfolding across the city.

At one point, Julia shifted closer to Chuck until her shoulder rested against his.

Chuck glanced down at her and asked, "You okay?"

Julia nodded, though she didn't look particularly convincing. "Yeah."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "That was the least convincing 'yeah' I've ever heard."

She gave him a tired look before quietly replying, "I'm just worried."

Chuck's expression softened before he reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently and said, "Me too."

Julia looked at their joined hands for a moment before leaning her head against his shoulder.

Neither of them said anything else.

They simply stayed like that while the television continued showing the burning streets of Los Angeles.

A few seconds later, Chuck whispered, "At least we're all together."

Julia nodded, "Yeah. That's something."

Alexander happened to glance toward them and briefly smiled before returning his attention to the television.

He listened to the television reports while periodically receiving updates from his own people, and the more information he received, the more he realised just how enormous the disaster was.

Several times, he found himself thinking about leaving the mansion as he knew he could help, yet he stopped himself every time while thinking, 'What exactly am I supposed to tell everyone? Sorry, everyone. I'm going outside into the riots because I have a powerful system that lets me summon monsters... Yeah. That would go over well. And even if I somehow manage to explain it, telling Ginny, Chuck, Julia, and their families that I want to personally walk into the chaos will only terrify them... I just can't... On top of that, even if I ignore all that, the most I can do summoning the Duel Spirit is helping a few people and stopping a few of the most violent elements, which is not enough...'

So Alexander did the only thing he could; he delegated.

Roxxon handled large-scale logistics and corporate coordination. Industrial Illusions handled its employees, warehouses, transportation, facilities, and supplies. Private security firms protected shelters, warehouses, and vulnerable facilities. Hospitals received additional supplies and generators. Businesses with secure buildings opened them as temporary shelters. Churches and community organisations became distribution points. And ordinary civilians began helping one another.

Alexander quickly realised that his greatest advantage in this situation wasn't actually his ability to summon Duel Monsters; it was organisation.

He only needed to make a few calls and direct the people and resources where they were needed the most. In fact, soon Chuck and his father, Robert Zane, Ginny and her parents, Steven and Morgan Potts, Julia and her father, Mark, also started to help him and Roland deal with all the reports and issuing new orders and directions, while Chuck and Julia's mothers took care of their meals and of Ginny's little brother Clay.

While the adults continued discussing shelters and emergency supplies, Clay had apparently decided that he had been sitting still for long enough.

Alexander noticed him only when the boy dragged another blanket across the room and asked, "What are you doing, Clay?"

"Building a fort."

Alexander blinked and repeated, "A fort?"

Clay nodded seriously, "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because everyone keeps talking about bad guys and fires."

He paused before adding, completely matter-of-factly, "Fortresses are safer."

For a moment, nobody said anything, then Chuck snorted; Julia covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, and even Alexander couldn't help smiling, while Ginny groaned, yet a hint of a smile was also present on her face.

Clay continued arranging the cushions with absolute concentration.

"Besides," he declared, "if the bad guys come here, they'll never find me."

Ginny glanced at the enormous blanket fort already taking shape in the corner of the room and said, "Clay, that's not exactly subtle."

"It's camouflage."

"That's a blue blanket."

Clay looked at her. "It's very advanced camouflage."

Chuck finally laughed, and for the first time in hours, the room felt almost normal.

Alexander's father, at the same time, was also making a lot of calls while organising and directing resources and people, but on a much larger scale.

Hugh Jones had spent most of the night making phone calls.

At first, Alexander suspected that his father had approached the crisis partly through the lens of business and public relations, but that attitude didn't survive contact with reality, as this was far too large and no public-relations campaign could solve this.

So Hugh's calls became increasingly practical.

He convinced executives to donate trucks. He got suppliers to release emergency stock. He convinced companies to open warehouses. He pushed transportation companies to move essential supplies. He reassigned security personnel to protect critical facilities. And whenever one problem appeared, Hugh called someone who knew someone who could solve it.

Alexander eventually understood something.

His father's greatest contribution wasn't money, but it was his utterly massive network and influence.

A phone call from the right person could accomplish in ten minutes what would normally take days.

Meanwhile, the government response continued expanding.

Curfews were imposed and widened. More National Guard reinforcements arrived. Police and firefighters received additional support. Emergency services reorganised around the worst-hit areas.

Hugh and Alexander's early warning hadn't prevented the violence, but it had given some people more time to prepare, and sometimes, that was the difference between an emergency and a catastrophe.

Thursday became the worst day.

Fires spread across the city and surrounding communities. Businesses were destroyed. People were injured. Some civilians became trapped inside buildings or vehicles. Families lost their homes. Business owners lost everything they had built.

Alexander's emergency network became a constant stream of calls.

"Warehouse on fire."

"Ambulance can't reach the intersection."

"Family trapped in an apartment."

"Hospital needs blood."

"Security team needs extraction."

"School shelter needs more water."

"Fire department requesting access through our warehouse."

Alexander barely had time to process one report before another arrived, to the point where it was becoming increasingly impossible to keep up and somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, Blade and Hannibal King became more heavily involved.

They moved through some of the worst areas of the city, operating where conventional emergency responders couldn't safely intervene. They pulled civilians from burning buildings. They extracted people trapped by violent mobs. They intervened when someone was about to be beaten to death.

They were doing what Alexander wished he could do, and then Alexander heard a report coming from the television that made him sit up.

Koreatown.

The police presence there had been drastically reduced as officers were redirected toward protecting businesses and other areas, including the wealthy independent cities of Beverly Hills and West Hollywood, and that left Koreatown's residents largely responsible for protecting themselves.

Store owners had organised armed security groups where some had taken positions on the rooftops of their businesses, and now they were exchanging gunfire with rioters.

Alexander stared at the television as he realised that this wasn't just about property anymore, but about people who were shooting at each other. 'If this continues, a lot of people will die...'

He stood and informed everyone, "I need a moment for a bathroom break... Roland, please make sure that every situation that may arise is handled while I'm away."

Roland nodded, and at the same time, nobody questioned him, as Alexander had been working almost nonstop these few days; he only took a few breaks to eat and rest a bit when necessary.

Alexander walked out of the living room and into the garden. Then, once he was certain nobody could see him, he stopped and mentally called out the YGO System.

The familiar interface briefly appeared before Alexander immediately opened the Card Database and began searching for the most suitable card. 'I don't need something powerful. I need something fast. Maybe something that can fly. Something that can see from a distance. Something that can cover an enormous amount of ground and do a lot before the 5-minute time limit expires...'

His eyes moved rapidly through the database until he found what he was looking for: Sky Scout.

A Level 4 Normal Monster whose flavour text said: With eyes like a hawk and a flying speed exceeding Mach 5, this monster is a master of the sky.

Alexander stared at the information for a moment while thinking, '5 minutes isn't much... But at the hypersonic Mach 5 speed? That is plenty of time.'

Then he smiled and declared, "You're perfect."

He didn't hesitate and chose that card that quickly manifested in his hand before he spent 100 DE to summon the Duel Spirit.

A sudden pulse of energy filled the garden as the card in his hand shone brightly before shattering into motes of light that gathered together, forming Sky Scout.

Sky Scout looked like a tall, dark-skinned young man with spiky black hair and big red feathered wings. A red domino mask covered his face, and his weapon was a long, sharp claw attached to his right arm.

The Duel Spirit looked around before turning toward Alexander, who pointed in the rough direction toward Koreatown and said, "I need you to go there. There are armed people fighting each other. I don't care who's right and who's wrong. Looters, defenders, everyone. Knock out anyone actively engaging in combat. But be careful to not kill them. They must only be incapacitated."

Sky Scout gave a small nod, and then it launched.

The creature accelerated so violently that Alexander couldn't even follow it with his eyes. One moment it was there and the next, it was gone.

Alexander stared into the empty sky and muttered, "Okay... That's fast..."

After staring at the empty sky for a brief moment longer, he turned around and walked back while muttering, "Back to pretending I'm a regular guy helping however I can."

He returned to the mansion and resumed watching the television, listening to reports, and directing the various operations with the help of Roland, his friends, and their families.

The violence was still severe, but something else was changing.

The emergency response was finally becoming organised.

National Guard units and other law-enforcement resources were spreading throughout the city. Curfews restricted movement. Emergency organisations had identified the worst trouble spots. Hospitals had established emergency procedures. Shelters were functioning. Corporate networks were moving supplies. And Alexander's network had effectively become a private emergency-management organisation.

There were still fires, there was still violence, a few people were still dying; but the momentum was changing. Instead of the crisis expanding faster than authorities could react, the response was finally beginning to catch up.

Alexander noticed the change before anyone told him, as the number of new emergencies was starting to decline.

Friday arrived.

Alexander was exhausted despite his enhanced physique and rightly so, as he hadn't slept properly in more than two days.

Roland eventually looked at him and said, "You need to rest, Master Alexander."

"I'm fine."

"You are not."

"I'm still standing."

"That is a remarkably low standard."

Alexander almost laughed, then another report arrived about a shelter that had run out of medical supplies.

Alexander immediately reached for the phone and said, "I'll handle it."

Roland watched him for several seconds, then he quietly said, "You know you can't save everyone."

Alexander froze for a moment.

He knew. Of course he knew. He had known it from the beginning, but knowing something and accepting it were two very different things.

"I know," Alexander finally said.

He looked toward the television and added, "But I can still help as many as I can."

Roland didn't argue.

Saturday came differently.

The city was still devastated. Entire blocks were scarred by fire and vandalism. Thousands of people had been arrested or injured. Businesses had been destroyed. Families had lost homes and livelihoods. The death toll continued to rise. But the large-scale violence was finally fading. And then something unexpected began appearing on television.

People cleaning streets. Churches distributing food. Businesses reopening. Volunteers arriving with brooms, trucks, clothing, food, and medical supplies. Neighbours helping strangers.

The same city that had spent three days tearing itself apart was already beginning to put itself back together.

Alexander watched everything silently.

For three days, he had been thinking about how much destruction he could prevent, and now he realised there was another side to the equation.

People could rebuild.

Late Saturday, Alexander finally leaned back into the couch; he was almost alone as everyone else had gone to rest.

The phones were quiet.

For the first time in three days, there wasn't another crisis demanding his attention every few seconds.

Roland approached him with the preliminary assessment, "The riots lasted three days instead of four, you told me about."

Alexander remained silent as he continued, "Several fires were contained earlier. Emergency shelters were established sooner. Hospitals received supplies before shortages became critical. Thousands of civilians were moved out of dangerous areas before the violence reached them."

Roland paused, then he declared, "Thousands of people are alive because the emergency network was activated before the first major wave of violence."

Alexander looked down.

He didn't feel victorious; he couldn't, as people had still died, families had still lost everything.

There had never been a version of this where he could save everyone, but for the first time since the verdict, Alexander allowed himself to breathe.

His future knowledge hadn't given him the power to prevent history, but it had given him something else: the chance to prepare for it and preparation had saved lives.

Alexander looked through the window toward the city and thought, 'Los Angeles was scarred, but the worst had finally passed.'