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Chapter 33 - Chapter 33: The Marcus Rematch

Chapter 33: The Marcus Rematch

The email notification pings at 9:47 AM.

Google Alert: "Bloom's Comic Book Store"

I open it expecting another positive review from the anniversary sale. Instead:

"Bloom's Comics SCAM - Overpriced and Fake Collectibles!!!"

Posted two hours ago on three different comic forums. Same username. Same complaints.

My coffee goes cold while I read.

The Iron Fist order from ten months ago—twisted into me "knowingly selling fakes." The Walking Dead success—claimed I'm "hoarding valuable issues to manipulate prices." My consulting work—proof I'm "more interested in Hollywood than actual fans."

Every achievement reframed as exploitation.

"Stuart?"

Leonard's at the counter, holding his Wednesday pull list. "You okay? You look—"

"Read this." I turn my laptop.

He scans the screen, face darkening. "This is... this is character assassination. Complete lies."

"Check the username."

"ComicKing_Glendale." He looks up. "Marcus?"

"Has to be. Nobody else benefits from destroying my reputation."

The bell chimes. Sheldon enters with his reusable shopping bag, spots my expression immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"Marcus is posting lies about Stuart online," Leonard explains.

Sheldon sets down his bag with precise deliberation. "Show me."

By noon, we've found twelve separate posts across forums, review sites, and social media. All claiming Stuart's shop is fraudulent, overpriced, or unethical. All from obvious fake accounts. All linking back to Marcus's shop as "the honest alternative."

"This is defamation," Sheldon announces. "Legally actionable."

"Fighting it makes it worse. Streisand effect." I close the laptop harder than necessary. "Responding gives it oxygen."

"So we do nothing?"

"I do nothing. Reputation warfare helps nobody."

Leonard's phone buzzes. He checks it, face brightening. "Tim just texted. He's posting a response thread on Reddit."

"Who's Tim?"

"Software engineer. Regular customer. Buys Miles Morales every month." Leonard shows me the screen.

The post is already up: "I've Been Shopping at Bloom's for 8 Months - Here's the REAL Story"

Detailed, thoughtful, defending every accusation with specific examples. Posted fifteen minutes ago with forty-three upvotes already.

My phone starts buzzing.

Text from Sarah (the woman Howard hit on badly): Saw the bullshit online. Posting reviews on every site I can find.

Text from Greg (teacher, Wednesday regular): Someone's trashing your shop. Want me to organize a response?

Text from customer I don't even recognize: Your shop changed my life. Fighting back against these lies.

"Stuart." Leonard's scrolling his phone. "It's—they're everywhere. Your customers are flooding the forums."

Sheldon pulls up his tablet. "Reddit thread has two hundred upvotes. Seventeen comments, all defending you. Three people posted photos of purchases with dates, proving the 'fake collectibles' claim is fabricated."

The door opens. Marcus walks in.

The shop goes quiet. Five customers turn to stare. Leonard stands straighter. Sheldon's expression could freeze nitrogen.

"Stuart. Can we talk?"

His voice is different. No condescension. No smirk. He looks exhausted.

"Outside."

The sidewalk's warm with October sun. Marcus leans against the building, not meeting my eyes.

"I fucked up."

"Yeah."

"I thought—" He runs a hand through his hair. "My shop's down forty percent this year. You're expanding. I saw you at WonderCon with industry people. Got desperate."

"So you tried to destroy my reputation."

"So I tried to compete. Badly."

A bike passes. Someone's dog barks down the block. Marcus keeps staring at the concrete.

"Your customers found out it was me. One of them traced my IP or something. Posted it everywhere. Now I'm the guy who lies about competitors." He finally looks up. "My reviews are getting bombed worse than yours."

"Good."

"Fair." He pushes off the wall. "I'm not asking for mercy. Just—I'm sorry. And I'm done. No more shit. I'll post retractions, take down everything, whatever you want."

The anger's still there, burning in my chest. He tried to destroy something I built. Lied about me publicly. Attacked my integrity for clicks.

But he's standing here, apologizing, looking like a man who made mistakes he regrets.

I think about the kind of person I want to be. The businessman I'm becoming.

"Retract the posts. Publicly apologize—don't mention me specifically, just admit you spread false information. Then we're done."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Unless—" The idea surfaces. "You ever run events at your shop?"

"What?"

"Gaming tournaments, signings, cosplay contests. Community stuff."

"Not really. Tried once, nobody showed."

"Because you compete instead of collaborate." I pull out my phone. "I'm doing a Halloween event. Two stores, simultaneous—we coordinate it, split costs, cross-promote. Your customers come here, mine go there. Build community instead of fighting over scraps."

Marcus stares like I'm speaking Klingon.

"You're—after what I did—you want to partner?"

"I want to stop wasting energy on bullshit competition. LA's big enough for both of us. You in?"

He extends his hand slowly, like I might pull it away.

"Yeah. I'm in."

We shake. His grip is firm, grateful.

"Why?" he asks.

Because the powers made me successful enough to be generous. Because destroying you doesn't build anything. Because I'm trying to be the person who deserves these advantages.

"Because successful people lift others up," I say instead. "And I'd rather have an ally than an enemy."

Leonard's waiting inside when I return. The customers have gone back to browsing, but tension lingers.

"He apologized," I explain. "We're done."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Also, we're doing a Halloween partnership. Two-shop event."

Sheldon appears beside us. "That's strategically sound. Collaborative competition benefits both parties while expanding combined market reach."

"It's also the right thing to do."

"Morality and strategy occasionally align," Sheldon concedes. "Statistically rare, but observable."

My phone buzzes again. More customers posting defenses. More reviews appearing. The smear campaign is being buried under genuine testimonials faster than Marcus could've imagined.

I didn't ask for this. Didn't coordinate it. The community just... mobilized.

That's the Magnetism power working. Not controlling people, but making them want to fight for something they value.

For me.

The realization sits heavy. I've built something people care about protecting. The shop isn't just mine anymore—it's theirs too.

That's worth more than any amount of successful predictions or investment gains.

Leonard claps my shoulder. "You handled that well. Could've destroyed him."

"Destruction's easy. Building's hard."

"When did you get wise?"

"About ten months ago, apparently."

He laughs. Sheldon returns to browsing—crisis resolved to his satisfaction. Customers resume their Wednesday routines.

And I stand behind my counter, watching my community defend what we built together, thinking about the difference between success and meaning.

I have both now.

That's the real victory.

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