Bonus Chapter
The following evening, Elizabeth Cooper arrived at the Jones Mansion precisely on time.
The iron gates had barely finished opening before her sedan rolled smoothly along the winding driveway, tyres whispering over the neatly maintained gravel. The evening sun hung low above the trees, bathing the expansive grounds in warm amber light. Long shadows stretched across the manicured lawn, while a gentle breeze stirred the hedges lining the path toward the manor.
Waiting near the front entrance stood her uncle Roland Cooper with hands folded behind his back and suit immaculate, as always.
The moment Elizabeth stepped from the driver's seat, she spotted him watching the approaching car with patient composure.
A smile tugged at her lips as she commented, "You haven't changed at all."
Roland raised an eyebrow and asked in an amused tone, "No?"
She closed the car door and walked toward him and replied, "Still early for absolutely everything."
Roland adjusted the cuff of his jacket with practised dignity, "I prefer to think of it as respecting other people's schedules."
Elizabeth laughed and commented, "Haha... You've been saying that since I was twelve."
"And I was correct then as well."
She shook her head before she said, "Some people mellow with age."
"I've never seen the appeal."
Their familiar banter came as naturally as breathing.
Although Roland had technically been her uncle, she'd always regarded him as far more than that; he had been her father figure since his brother, her own father, passed away.
He took care of her and her mother and ensured that they had everything they needed, and had always been present despite the commitment that his job demanded.
During family gatherings, he'd often been the calm adult capable of ending arguments with a single measured sentence.
Somehow he had remained exactly the same, something she was very grateful for.
"Come inside," Roland said. "Dinner should be ready."
Elizabeth followed him through the entrance hall, and even if this wasn't the first time she visited it, she still took a moment to appreciate it as the mansion retained the same quiet elegance she remembered.
Nothing announced wealth for the sake of showing it; there were no glittering chandeliers imported simply because they were expensive, no gaudy decorations, no oversized portraits screaming old family prestige.
Instead, rich hardwood floors reflected the warm lighting, tasteful paintings decorated the walls, bookshelves occupied entire sections of the hallway, and fresh flowers rested in simple ceramic vases.
Everything carried the unmistakable feeling of prestige and confidence, not wealth trying to impress but wealth that had long since stopped needing to.
A faint aroma drifted from the dining room as they stepped inside.
Fresh bread, roasted vegetables, perfectly cooked beef.
Alexander was already waiting beside the table, and he stood as the two entered, "Good evening, Elizabeth."
"Good evening, Alexander."
She smiled warmly.
Every time they met, she experienced the same strange moment of cognitive dissonance.
It wasn't that he acted like an adult, as children who tried to imitate adults usually sounded rehearsed, but Alexander didn't. He simply spoke to adults exactly as he spoke to everyone else. He was calm, thoughtful, never trying to prove anything.
That, more than anything else, made it easy to momentarily forget how young he really was.
"I hope traffic wasn't troublesome," Alexander said.
"It behaved itself today."
"That's fortunate."
Roland gestured toward the table and invited her, "Please. Take a seat."
Dinner unfolded at an unhurried pace as conversation drifted naturally between topics.
Roland recounted one particularly stubborn hobby store owner who had somehow managed to sign the wrong version of a contract three separate times despite multiple revisions.
Elizabeth nearly laughed hard enough to spill her wine, "I refuse to believe someone can be that careless."
"I assure you," Roland replied dryly, "they exceeded every expectation."
Alexander listened quietly, occasionally asking questions, occasionally offering observations but mostly letting the two family members enjoy themselves.
Elizabeth eventually shifted the discussion toward her university experience, "I swear, law professors think sleep is optional."
Roland smiled knowingly before he commented, "I imagine most other professors feel similarly."
"Oh, they absolutely do. But law ones are especially nasty!"
She rolled her eyes and recounted, "I once had a professor assign nearly six hundred pages of reading over a weekend."
Alexander blinked and asked, "...Why?"
"Because he could."
Roland nodded solemnly and said, "An unfortunately common motivation among professors. Since they've experienced something similar in their time, they feel obliged to let the younger generation go through the same."
Elizabeth laughed again, "Exactly."
The conversation continued comfortably through the main course, then dessert arrived. It was simple and elegant, fresh fruit accompanied by vanilla custard.
Only after setting down her teacup did Elizabeth glance between Roland and Alexander and said, "I assume this wasn't simply a family dinner."
Roland's smile widened slightly, and he admitted, "No."
"I suspected as much."
She turned toward Alexander and said, "When Uncle Roland called, he mentioned there were... several sensible matters you wanted to discuss."
Alexander nodded once and said, "There are."
Then without unnecessary buildup, he began explaining about the counterfeit cards, how they had entered the market, how retailers had unknowingly purchased fake inventory, the investigation currently underway, Industrial Illusion's increased tournament verification procedures, the internal security measures being developed, but most importantly how the company intended to respond as he declared, "We're going to pursue every counterfeiter we can reasonably identify."
Elizabeth listened without interrupting; her expression remained composed and professional.
Alexander continued, "This isn't only about recovering financial losses."
He folded his hands neatly on the table as he added, "If customers begin questioning whether the cards they're buying are genuine... the trust behind the entire product begins disappearing."
He explained how every layer depended upon confidence.
Collectors trusted authenticity, retailers trusted distributors, tournament organisers trusted players, players trusted that everyone competed under the same rules. If counterfeit products became common enough, every one of those relationships weakened.
By the time he finished speaking, Elizabeth already understood the larger picture.
She leaned back thoughtfully and said, "I see the problem."
Roland noticed her expression and commented, "You sound concerned."
"I am." She folded her hands together before she added, "My firm can absolutely handle the cases already on our desk."
She paused and then admitted, "But not what you're describing."
Alexander remained silent as he wanted her honest assessment, which she didn't hide, "If these lawsuits become even half as widespread as you're expecting... my current staff simply won't be enough."
She looked toward the window for several seconds while thinking aloud, "I could merge with another firm."
She frowned almost immediately, "But I'd almost certainly lose controlling ownership."
She considered another possibility, "I could seek outside investors."
A second shake of her head, "Then someone else eventually starts deciding how I should run my own business."
Roland understood exactly where this was heading while Elizabeth sighed quietly, "I spent years building Cooper Attorney Firm. Every client. Every attorney. Every secretary. Every paralegal. Every reputation. I don't particularly enjoy the idea of slowly watching it become someone else's or take a direction I don't approve of."
Silence settled across the dining room.
Alexander waited until she had completely finished, then he spoke, "What if you didn't have to?"
Elizabeth looked toward him as he stated, "I have a proposal."
She gestured lightly to continue while saying, "I'm listening."
Alexander then said, "We considered creating an internal legal department."
She nodded, "A logical approach."
"We decided against it. In my opinion, it is way too inefficient."
That surprised her slightly.
Alexander continued, "Instead... Industrial Illusion signs a long-term legal services agreement with Cooper Attorney Firm."
She remained silent, listening carefully as Alexander explained, "You become our primary legal counsel. The guaranteed workload provides predictable revenue that you can make use of. You lease larger office space. Hire additional attorneys. Expand administrative staff. Recruit specialists. Grow naturally."
He paused deliberately before he added, "But... you remain entirely independent."
Roland watched his niece and the boy he helped raise with quiet satisfaction.
Meanwhile, Alexander continued, "We're not purchasing your firm. We're becoming your client. A very large and important client. This is a whole other approach and the distinction matters."
Elizabeth slowly nodded, "It does."
"You continue deciding who to hire. You determine your firm's priorities. You remain responsible only to yourself and your clients. And in exchange I receive experienced legal representation from people I trust. We both benefit."
The room grew quiet once again.
Elizabeth stared thoughtfully into her untouched tea, and after nearly half a minute she smiled and said, "Heh...That's actually a remarkably elegant solution."
Roland chuckled while Alexander commented, "I suspected you'd appreciate it."
She looked directly at Alexander, "You solved the one issue I couldn't. I keep my independence."
Alexander nodded and said, "That was intentional. I don't particularly want employees. I'd rather have reliable partners."
The words lingered in the room.
There was something unexpectedly mature about that philosophy.
Not ownership but partnership. A relationship that ensures mutual benefit.
Elizabeth laughed softly and said, "I accept."
Alexander stood, offering his hand, "So... I look forward to working together."
She rose as well, "So do I."
They shook hands. Simple and professional yet somehow significant.
When they sat again, Elizabeth leaned back with a thoughtful smile and said, "I already know who I'd recruit first."
Alexander looked interested as he uttered, "Oh?"
"I have several former colleagues and law school friends. Some of the finest attorneys I've ever worked beside."
She sighed and fixed her glasses before she added, "Unfortunately... ability isn't always what determines someone's career."
Roland quietly nodded and said his piece, "No."
Elizabeth began counting on her fingers, and she listed them, "First. A litigation attorney. She is probably the best corporate attorney I've personally seen."
Alexander tilted his head and asked, "If she is so good, why isn't she already a partner in a big law firm?"
Elizabeth's smile disappeared as she replied, "Because she's a woman."
Nobody spoke after hearing that.
"The senior partners keep promising she'll be considered next year."
She gave a humourless laugh as she added, "But they've been saying that for five years, but every year some less qualified male gets ahead."
Alexander simply nodded before he asked, "What else?"
"A trial lawyer. He graduated near the top of our class. He has deep legal knowledge with sharp communication, empathy, and unflappable adaptability. He is also a masterful storyteller who can translate complex facts into a compelling narrative, backed by meticulous preparation and the strategic judgment to pivot when things don't go as planned."
She sighed before she said, "He was rejected by multiple firms because he's Black."
Roland frowned a bit before he said, "I think I remember you told me about him before. Is he the one who represented himself in that discrimination case?"
"He is. He nearly won." Elizabeth replied before she shook her head and added, "The judge's comments made it fairly obvious what he thought. But juries don't always follow judges and let prejudices affect their verdict."
Alexander quietly stored the information away before he asked, "And who else?"
"A contracts specialist. She is brilliant. Meticulous. The sort of lawyer who catches errors nobody else notices."
Her expression hardened as she added, "However, she became pregnant."
Alexander already suspected where this was heading and guessed, "They fired her?"
Elizabeth nodded and said, "When she successfully sued for wrongful dismissal... the larger firms quietly made certain she couldn't find work afterwards."
Silence returned.
Alexander finally spoke, "So... You already know who deserves an opportunity."
Elizabeth smiled, "I do. And unlike some firms... I'll evaluate them based on whether they're good lawyers."
Roland looked between the two of them before he commented in an obviously proud tone, "I have the distinct impression Industrial Illusion isn't the only organisation preparing to expand."
Alexander smiled and said, "I certainly hope not."
Elizabeth opened her notebook as business replaced conversation almost instantly, "Now. Let's discuss the counterfeiters."
The following half hour resembled a boardroom strategy session far more than an after-dinner discussion.
Elizabeth filled pages with notes as every proposal generated three more questions, every question produced another practical solution.
Civil litigation, trademark infringement, copyright enforcement, emergency injunctions, asset preservation, retail inspections, distribution audits, cease-and-desist letters, cross-jurisdictional cooperation, and whenever practical, public settlements.
"Winning quietly doesn't always help," Elizabeth explained, "Sometimes people need to see that counterfeiting carries consequences."
Alexander nodded and agreed, "Visibility becomes deterrence."
"Exactly."
She drew another note, "If one distributor cooperates early... publicise it. If another refuses... make an example through litigation."
Roland watched with growing approval.
Neither of them approached the problem emotionally; everything centred on incentives: reduce profitability, increase legal risk, and raise operating costs until eventually counterfeiting simply became an unattractive business.
Alexander found himself genuinely impressed as Elizabeth wasn't merely preparing to win lawsuits; she was designing an ecosystem where future counterfeiters would think twice before printing the first fake card.
When she finally closed her notebook, Alexander smiled and said, "I think choosing you as our legal partner was the correct decision."
Roland folded his arms and said, "I never had any doubt."
Elizabeth allowed herself one small smile, "Good. Because I'm going to keep all of you very busy."
~~~▽~~~
Several miles away, none of those discussions mattered.
"I summon and attack with Shadow Ghoul!"
The teenager slapped the card onto the folding table with enough enthusiasm to make several loose cards jump.
"My Graveyard has six monsters!"
He pointed dramatically.
"That means Shadow Ghoul gains 600 Attack Points!"
His opponent groaned.
"I knew I should've ended this before you filled your Graveyard."
"Too late!"
Shadow Ghoul card succesfully destroy the remaining monster, making the Life Points hit zero.
"...I lose."
"Again!"
The gathered teenagers burst into laughter.
One dramatically threw himself backwards onto the grass as he commented, "I swear your deck cheats."
"It doesn't."
"It absolutely does."
"You just keep feeding my Graveyard, allowing me to empower Shadow Ghoul."
"That's because every monster you own refuses to die without summoning yet another version of itself!"
The laughter only grew louder at their banter.
As the evening deepened, decks disappeared into backpacks, cards were counted twice, trades were discussed, and plans were made.
"Same place next Saturday?"
"If my parents let me."
"They will."
"You don't know that."
"I have faith."
One by one, everyone headed home. The winning boy adjusted his backpack over one shoulder.
Inside, carefully protected in plastic sleeves, rested his favourite deck and among the monsters, among the spells, and among the traps lay Shadow Ghoul.
It is a counterfeit card, but the boy never questioned it. How could he? It looked real enough. Played like the real thing.
He pulled it out from a new set of booster packs he brought from a newsstand near his father's office, and to him it was simply another card.
The sidewalks gradually emptied, the evening air cooled, and streetlights flickered on one after another.
Long shadows stretched between buildings, but behind him one shadow didn't behave quite correctly.
At first it merely quivered; then it thickened before darkness pooled unnaturally across the pavement, like ink spreading across stone, like smoke learning how to breathe.
The shape slowly rose.
It was too tall, too thin. Its body possessed no clear outline, only drifting black mist.
Skeletal fingers emerged first; they were long and crooked, dragging silently across the concrete.
No footsteps followed, no breathing, only silence; then twenty or so crimson eyes opened all over the shadowy figure. They fixed themselves upon the unsuspecting teenager walking ahead.
Patient but hungry.
Its featureless face slowly split into something resembling a grin, a grin far too wide to belong to anything human.
Something malicious had found its opportunity.
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