Gabe Transfers Schools

Egghead left in the early hours of the morning, when dawn was just beginning to break.

Even the Grandmaster needed rest. Though his body, like Captain America’s, never grew tired, his mind could. Especially after staring at Egghead’s big bald head for several hours—it was blinding under the lights and made him dizzy.

He shut the door, turned off the lights, closed the windows, and took a short nap with Skye. But just as daylight broke, a knock on the door woke him.

"Who is it? Are you going to let people sleep or not?"

Skye struggled to get up, wrapped herself in the bedsheet, and opened the door. Two skinny boys stood before her. "Robbie? Gabe? You’re not working today. Go back and sleep."

She started to close the door so she could catch up on sleep.

A hand slipped into the doorway and got caught by the door.

Robbie hurriedly said, "Skye, I need to see the boss. It’s important."

"…Fine." Skye pushed harder against the door. "Wait a moment."

Robbie silently pulled his hand back.

Skye went back to get dressed and wash up. Half an hour later, she opened the door again. "You talk. I’m going to buy breakfast."

"What did you come to see me about?"

Old Wang put on his clothes, picked up a stack of newspapers, and asked as he reclined in a wicker chair and read, "Does it have something to do with the three of them?"

Before leaving yesterday, Old Wang had told Robbie to help look after Matt, Elektra, and Stick. Had Elektra and Stick woken up, or did Matt want another heart-to-heart talk and cling to his thigh again?

"No."

Robbie glanced at Gabe beside him. "We plan to settle down in New York. Gabe hasn’t finished high school yet, so he needs to transfer. I wanted to ask if you have a way to help, boss."

In the United States, transferring schools was not easy. Robbie had no connections and no money.

More importantly, Robbie cared deeply about his only younger brother, his only family. He hoped Gabe could attend a good high school, so getting into Stanford or Berkeley later on—and everything else—would be easier.

Transfer schools?

Old Wang smiled. This was not difficult.

Among the old men and women he had given massages to, at least thirty or forty had once taught at high schools. There were high schools in Chinatown too, and he knew the principals well. But those schools were not particularly good, and their teachers and students were mostly Chinese, which might not meet Robbie’s needs.

But that was all right. Old Wang had connections.

"Wait a moment."

Old Wang took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Master Wang."

Egghead’s voice came through, carrying thirty percent annoyance, thirty percent sleepiness, thirty percent reproach, and ten percent desire to punch someone. "It’s only seven in the morning! I just went to sleep!"

Sleeping in this late? Is that what leaders do? Every moment in the morning is worth a fortune… Old Wang grumbled inwardly before getting straight to the point. "In order to better assist S.H.I.E.L.D., the newly appointed special consultant, Gabe Reyes, has decided to transfer schools and settle in New York. Shouldn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. help arrange it?"

Special consultant?

Who was Gabe Reyes?

Egghead shook his head, waking up a little. Only then did he remember that last night, while drinking Erguotou with Egghead, Master Wang had hired himself and members of the True Pure Ones Society as S.H.I.E.L.D. special consultants, specifically to teach practical martial arts.

Gabe?

The disciple Master Wang had accepted only half a month ago?

He was being made a special consultant?

Master Wang, that was going too far!

Egghead silently told himself, Don’t get angry, don’t get angry. It’s just a title; it doesn’t matter. We’re still in our honeymoon phase. I can’t fall out with Master Wang over this. After seriously thinking for two seconds, he said, "Then let him attend S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. The Academy has the best facilities and the best faculty. Many of his classmates have master’s or doctoral degrees, and the teachers are mostly famous scientists."

"No!"

Old Wang immediately refused. "Gabe is a consultant, not an agent. Find him a good high school instead. He’s aiming for Stanford and Berkeley!"

If Gabe went onto Egghead’s turf, what if he really got brainwashed and became an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?

Becoming an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. would still be fine.

But what if he became a Hydra member who only knew how to shout "Hail Hydra"?

Egghead was used to scheming. Every word and every action was carefully considered. He had plotted against others too many times, and even with a low failure rate, the failures had accumulated over time. He had long since gotten used to it.

But from Master Wang’s tone, was S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy somehow inferior to Stanford and Berkeley?

Other than never having produced a president, in what way was it not better than them?

Egghead was unhappy. He snorted. "Then Midtown High School. It’s the best public high school in Manhattan, even in all of New York State."

Midtown High School?

Old Wang tapped the armrest. It seemed there was a little guy at Midtown High School.

He wondered if the kid had become Little Spider yet.

Probably not. This was the Marvel Cinematic Universe, after all. Little Spider in this universe should still be in elementary school. Ten years later, during Avengers: Infinity War, he was still a high school student…

Forget it. He would not interfere with the kid’s life trajectory.

What if, because of the butterfly effect, Little Spider never became Spider-Man? Wouldn’t this world lose a lot of its fun?

"I’ll have someone contact Mr. Robbie Reyes." Egghead could not possibly handle such a trivial matter himself. He could just leave it to Hill.

As one of the few Level 9 agents in the organization and the director’s deputy, she was supposed to handle the actual work. The director coordinated the big picture; when there was work, the deputy did it. When there was no work… ahem, the director was very busy, working year-round without breaks. It was impossible for there to be no work.

After hanging up, Old Wang explained things to Robbie. Ghost Rider then took Gabe outside to practice horse stance and boxing.

Old Wang continued reading the newspaper while eating Egghead and drinking soy milk.

Today’s headline: A shooting occurred at Columbia University. A professor, two male students, and one female student were accidentally shot dead in the woods, while more than twenty others were injured. The university was furious and strongly condemned the police for their inaction.

Columbia University alumnus, Doctor of Medicine, Doctor of Science, and renowned neurosurgeon Stephen Strange expressed concern over New York’s public safety and strongly called upon all sectors of society to protect humanity’s future.

Director George of the New York Police Department reiterated that they would fight criminal forces to the end.

Kung fu, a term once again being brought up. Can kung fu masters really withstand modern weapons? Could the ancient legends be true?

Are dragons truly real in this world?

Eighteen things to note when choosing a martial arts school, along with enrollment notices from New York’s ten best martial arts schools—Chinese Daily special correspondent Wang Dalong will bring you continuing coverage.

"The impact really is huge!" Old Wang sighed.

As one of the best universities in the United States, Columbia University had produced several presidents and dozens of heads of state. Yet now such a bloody incident had occurred, with so many dead. The reaction from all walks of life was enormous, and the New York police—even the New York City Government—were under tremendous pressure.

Whether it was The Hand or Wilson Fisk, neither would make any major moves for the time being. This was the calm before the storm.

Hopefully S.H.I.E.L.D. would be up to the task.

The Hand had to be wiped out.

Not only because The Hand possessed something he needed, such as that remaining section of dragon bone.

But also because The Hand was a brick.

A stepping stone for knocking open the Kunlun Gate.

In an apartment.

After sleeping for nearly an entire day and night, Stick finally woke up.

"I’m not dead yet?"

He quickly checked himself over. Aside from being covered in blood, he had no wounds at all—not even scars left by healing. Could everything he experienced last night have been a dream?

No, of course not.

His heartbeat was not strong enough, his breathing was somewhat labored, and his physical condition was poor. His internal injuries had not fully healed.

Everything from yesterday was real.

Giyoka Shin and the ninjas were real, and the Immortal Iron Fist was real too!

So the Immortal Iron Fist had saved him?

The thought made Stick involuntarily excited.

"You’re awake."

Matt, who had not slept at all, walked over from Elektra’s bedside. After carefully sensing him for seven seconds, a trace of relief appeared on his face. "You’re in good condition. At most, you’ll fully recover within a week."

Stick forced himself out of bed and took a deep breath. "Matt, were you the one who asked the Immortal Iron Fist for help yesterday? I want to see him."

Thanks to Ziyuan882 for the 100 reward.