Druid in the Marvel Universe Chapter 10: Hello, Principal

The community school in Hell's Kitchen's got 36 classes from grades 1 to 12, and it's packed with over a thousand kids.

Alvin's the big boss of this school now. To get there, he had a little sit-down with the Hell's Kitchen gangs. After some "friendly" chats and a "fair" election, Alvin snagged the principal gig.

And the principal picked by the Department of Education? Who gives a damn?

First thing Alvin did after taking over was have a chat with Kingpin. As the top dog and underground godfather of Hell's Kitchen, it's only fair he chips in for the local school's education, right? And not just once, but on the regular. So, Kingpin coughed up a cool $5 million every year and got himself a spot on the school board.

With cash in hand, hiring teachers was a breeze. Even though it's Hell's Kitchen, it's still a school, right? Just get a headhunting firm to track down some top-notch teachers who are out of work. Once you find 'em, send a "sincere" invite with sweet perks like room, board, and insurance. They might not know Alvin, but they sure as hell respect Kingpin, right?

As for the students, Alvin, having helped his kid through fourth grade in his past life, knew what a solid school schedule looked like.

Taking a page from Maotanchang High School's book, students roll in at 7:30 AM for morning reading, classes kick off at 8 AM, lunch break from 12 PM to 1:30 PM, school wraps up at 5 PM, and "voluntary" evening study starts at 7 PM.

If you wanna skip out, you gotta get Principal Alvin's okay. Usually, unless there's a death in the family or your house is on fire, Mr. Alvin ain't gonna agree, and he's a busy guy, not around school much.

Alvin stood at the school gate, watching the kids scurry in like mice spotting a cat.

Listening to the current vice principal, the former principal, Nelson Norris, singing his praises, Alvin felt pretty damn pleased.

Why should my kid study from 6 AM to 9 PM every day while these punks get to mess around? Everyone's gotta hit the books. From now on, this is the Hell's Kitchen branch of Maotanchang.

JJ, playing bodyguard with a shotgun, shed a tear for the kids at this school. Is this a school? Nah, it's a kiddie concentration camp in Hell's Kitchen!

Dom loved tagging along with Alvin to school. He found the job a blast. Tackling a student, hearing their scared yelps, and snatching cool stuff from them was a hoot for him.

In no time, Dom had a stash of loot behind him, including snacks and toys. A bunch of kids, all sizes, were holding dangerous items that had been confiscated, lining up in front of Alvin, waiting to get sorted out.

Alvin, holding a funky-looking butterfly knife, asked the 13-14-year-old white kid in front of him, "Which class you in? What's your name? Why'd you bring a knife to school?"

The white kid, with his neck all stiff, said, "My name's Philip, I'm in 9th grade, and the knife's for trimming my nails."

JJ, watching the scene, cracked up. Who the hell needs a half-foot-long knife to trim their nails?

Alvin couldn't stand people talking with their necks stiff. He slapped Philip on the neck, making him yelp in pain and squat down, holding his head.

The kid was still a bit defiant after getting smacked. Though he didn't dare fight back, he glared at Alvin with wide eyes. This was a no-go; how dare he glare at the principal!

"Detention, two days. Nelson, hand him a copy of the school rules and make him write it 100 times," Alvin snapped. If school rules don't cut it, we'll go full prison mode.

Watching the defiant Philip get dragged into the school by the burly JJ, the kids behind him were scared stiff. They quickly admitted their mistakes and got their punishments, copying the school rules 10 to 50 times.

The last kid, a chubby black boy, made Alvin frown. Gritting his teeth, Alvin asked coldly, "What's your name? Which class are you in? Who the hell told you to bring weed to school?"

The chubby black boy, head down, mumbled, "My name's Lavon, I'm in 6th grade, and my dad told me to bring the weed."

Alvin roared, "Who the hell is your dad?"

Lavon, even more scared, said with his head down, "My teacher, Mr. Nathan, always has headaches. He's really nice to me. My dad found out and told me to bring some weed to help with his headaches."

Holding back his anger, Alvin kicked a metal trash can at the door. He didn't know what to feel.

This kid's dad was probably a dealer. To thank the teacher, he had his kid bring weed to help with the teacher's headaches. What the hell is this?

Not wanting to blame Lavon, Alvin patted his head and said, "Teachers will see a doctor for headaches. Don't bring weed to school again, or you'll end up like Philip, in detention! This bag of weed is confiscated. Now go to class!"

Lavon, as if granted amnesty, rushed into the school with his head down.

Seeing Alvin in a bad mood, Nelson chuckled softly, "It's already much better. A few years ago, this place was practically a training ground for gang recruits. Can you believe there were kids openly selling drugs in school? Things are much better now than I ever imagined."

Alvin was stunned for a moment, then said coldly, "How's the land application with the city government going? I need to get the student dorms built quickly to keep these kids off the streets. I want them all to go to college."

Nelson smiled and said, "It's almost done. There's plenty of vacant land in Hell's Kitchen. The land behind the school is enough to build two more teaching buildings, two student dorms, and a teacher's dorm."

Hesitating for a moment, Nelson continued, "But the design of the student dorms might be too cramped. Six people in a 30-square-meter dorm might be too tight."

Alvin gave Nelson a sideways glance, thinking he hadn't seen the student dorms in remote areas of China. If I didn't make the dorms communal, these kids should be grateful. Six people, and you think it's cramped? Many universities in China don't even meet this standard! Ninety-five percent of families in Hell's Kitchen are dirt poor, and I'm not charging tuition. What more do you want?

Noticing Alvin's unfriendly look, Nelson quickly changed the subject, "But this is fine. At least we're providing a safe learning environment for the kids, so they can study in peace. Your contributions to this school will be remembered in history," said the silver-haired, cunning old gentleman.

These words made Alvin feel good. He happily patted Nelson on the shoulder. This old guy had been the principal in Hell's Kitchen for 15 years and had some skills. Although his character was average, at least he knew how to talk, and he was good at dealing with the Department of Education.

The school's operation ultimately depended on the Department of Education for equipment and funding, which required him to handle.

"Alvin, you bastard, look at what you've done!" an old voice yelled from behind.

Alvin rubbed his nose. The owner of this voice was not so likable!