Druid in the Marvel Universe Chapter 141: The Real Steve

Peter eyed Jack's handgun like it was the last slice of pizza at a party, inching closer to get a better look.

Jack was grinning like a kid on Christmas. Stingy old Alvin had finally handed him a piece. And not just any piece—Alvin's guns were always top-notch. No more second-hand junk for special ops.

Seeing Peter's hungry eyes, Jack smugly tucked the two handguns behind his back, strutted a few steps, then whipped them out in a flashy gunslinger pose. He whistled at Peter, eyebrows dancing. "Dream on, kid! You ain't touching these babies!"

Peter, feeling a mix of envy and letdown, glanced at Alvin but kept his mouth shut. He slumped towards the bar, thinking a glass of milk might cheer him up. Booze was off-limits; Frank would tan his hide if he caught him drinking!

"Hey, Peter!" Alvin called out to the sulking Peter.

Peter spun around, heart racing, thinking Alvin had a change of heart and was gonna hand him a sweet piece.

Instead, Alvin pulled out a sci-fi-looking laptop from his bag and tossed it to Peter.

Peter fumbled but caught the laptop, eyes wide. It had the Stark Group logo and screamed "one-of-a-kind." He looked at Alvin, stunned. "Principal, this is way too much!"

Alvin gave him a thumbs-up. "This is for our future at MIT, buddy. Quit dreaming about being a hero and start helping Ethan. He's a physics PhD from MIT, and that'll do you more good!"

Peter nodded, buzzing with excitement. Who needs dreams when you've got this beast of a laptop?

The school had a supercomputer, but Kevin guarded it like a dragon with its hoard. Peter had tried hacking it a few times and got his butt handed to him. Now, with this laptop, who needs a supercomputer? This baby could handle anything!

Nick tilted his head, giving Alvin a punkish stare. He crossed his arms and shook his mechanical leg, showing off how well he'd adapted. "Alright, what you got for me? Hellfire Boulevard ain't about dolls!"

Alvin chuckled, pulled out a pen he’d picked up in Philly, and handed it to Nick. "Here you go, buddy. Picked this out just for you."

Nick took the pen, looking a bit dumbfounded. He was cool with any gift, but a pen? Seriously?

Alvin didn't bother explaining the pen's backstory. The kid wouldn't get it anyway. He ruffled Nick's hair and said, "Go find Megan. I remember buying an X-BOX; she knows where it is!"

Nick froze, then whooped and dashed off to find Megan. What could top that? A gun or a laptop? Nah, a game console was the ultimate score!

Steve was all over Alvin's gift. American men and their M1911s, right? He quickly disassembled and reassembled the gun, grinning like a kid with a new toy.

Alvin handed Frank his harpoon back and confiscated Jack's self-bought M500. Alvin had a thing for this gun—simple, powerful, and it had a certain swagger. Who needs an automatic rifle when you can rock this bad boy in a shootout?

Finally, Alvin pulled a shield from his bag, fiddling with it while Steve watched, intrigued.

He knocked on the shield's surface, producing a dull thud. The shield was etched with runes, Sanctuary Ko+ Ko+ Mal.

+20% Faster Hit Recovery (FHR), +20% Faster Block Rate (FBR), +20% Increased Chance of Blocking, +160% Enhanced Defense, +250 Defense vs. Missile, +20 Dexterity, All Resistances +70, Magic Damage Reduced by 7 (MDR), Level 12 Slow Missiles.

This magical shield, "Sanctuary," was tailor-made for Steve. Forget all the defensive perks for a sec—just the Level 12 Slow Missiles alone would make any baddie think twice before messing with him!

The Slow Missiles from the Sanctuary runes were some next-level magic. Enemies hit by it would move like they were stuck in molasses, kinda bending time around them. Alvin didn't get all the details, but he knew Steve was the perfect guy for it.

With this shield and the Slow Missiles skill, Steve could totally flip the script in any fight! Everyone on his team would get a boost!

Especially Alvin, who was pretty clueless in a brawl. When facing quick and skilled foes, he could just let Steve slow 'em down, then run up and whack 'em with an axe. How awesome is that?

Alvin tossed the shield to Steve with a grin. "Here's a little extra something, Steve. You're gonna love it."

Steve strapped the shield to his arm, gave it a few swings, then looked at Alvin, eyes wide, waiting for an explanation. He knew Alvin was cool, but this shield was on another level!

Alvin laughed. "How's it feel, buddy? Don't ask too many questions; just try it out. You'll be the best at using it, trust me!"

Steve nodded, closed his eyes, and really felt it. When he opened them, the shield lit up and zapped Jack, sending out light arrows that hit everyone in the restaurant.

Suddenly, everyone was moving in slow motion, like a scene from a movie. Jack, who was busting out some hip-hop moves, now looked like a gorilla with Parkinson's, shaking all over the place.

The whole restaurant turned into a comedy show because of this.

Steve was blown away by what he saw. He turned to Alvin for answers, but Alvin was also slowed down, looking at him in shock and mouthing an F-bomb that never fully came out!

After about eight seconds, everything snapped back to normal. Everyone felt a flash of light but didn't think much of it. They went back to their business, except for Alvin, who flipped Steve the bird.

"Don't mess around, man. You're making me look bad!" Alvin said, trying to sound serious.

Steve looked around and saw no one seemed to notice. He grinned at Alvin, gave a playful military salute, and said, "As you wish, Alvin!"

Alvin punched Steve in the chest and laughed. "So, what do you think? Every guy named Steve should know how to use a shield, right?"

Steve laughed heartily. He loved this feeling. People had their theories about who he really was, but no one said anything. They just joked about his name, not expecting him to live up to the "Captain America" legend. This was perfect; this was the life he wanted!

Following rules, being all noble and just—that was never Steve's thing.

He preferred this—chilling with friends, drinking, chatting, joking around! On the field, trash-talking with opponents, cheering for the boys' great plays!

Even though Alvin's surprise gift made him think a bit, who cares! He's just a soldier; his job is to beat the enemy, not overthink stuff!