Alvin rinsed off quickly and lay down on his bed. His conversation with Daredevil Matt today had left him thoughtful.
Having grown up, married, and raised children in China in his past life, Alvin was a believer in order—whether it was the order of the light or the dark, it was always better than chaos.
With his own strength, Alvin had taken three neighborhoods in Hell's Kitchen under his protection. That was the limit of what the other gangs could tolerate. There was an established set of underground rules here, and even Alvin couldn't break them casually without sparking a war. And in war, it was always the ordinary poor who suffered the most.
When someone got used to holding a gun, they'd start thinking of solving every problem with one.
Fortunately, Alvin had been a man with his own principles and values in his past life. Now, even with the immense power he possessed, he still considered the rules before resorting to force.
That was why he preferred helping the Hell's Kitchen police. He couldn't chain himself like Matt, burdening himself with the safety of the entire neighborhood.
Of course, when faced with people or situations that operated outside the rules, Alvin wasn't naive—he'd fight when necessary, kill when he had to. Like today, when SHIELD had been searching for the "Purple Man." Alvin had fed him to his pets, the ghoul vines. And in the process, he'd saved Jessica Jones, now a waitress at his restaurant.
Alvin hadn't read many American comics in his past life. In Marvel, he was mostly familiar with the Avengers. He knew Matt because Daredevil had been adapted into movies, and the guy was hard to forget—a blind man who could fight like hell.
As for Jessica, a civilian superhero from the Defenders? He'd never heard of her. Which made it easier to hire her as his waitress without a second thought.
Truth be told, if Alvin had known about Jessica's future, he might not have hired her at all. The man had a simple belief: superheroes brought super trouble.
But right now, he knew nothing. He was just a little surprised by Jessica's freakish strength. Then again, he was a crossover case himself—a girl with unusual strength wasn't that big a deal.
After some contemplation, Alvin decided not to stress over things he couldn't control. He checked in with his pets—the three ghost wolves patrolled three streets, while Thor and Doom guarded the restaurant.
The crows were scattered throughout Hell's Kitchen's hidden corners. Tonight, they'd take over some of Matt's workload. Sure, he had an agreement with Kingpin—his territory was limited to three blocks—but Alvin wasn't trying to expand. Just keeping the peace. Kingpin would understand. Besides, he had no idea the crows were Alvin's summons.
The ghost wolves couldn't be sent out. Every gang in Hell's Kitchen knew those monstrously large wolves belonged to Alvin.
With everything settled, Alvin hugged his pillow and thought of his wife from his past life. Good. Her face was still clear. Within minutes, he was asleep, dreaming of his family—his wife's endless chatter now warm and familiar, his son's mischief suddenly endearing.
A good night's sleep, and by five in the morning, Alvin was up. He washed up, threw on some workout clothes, and headed out for a run.
At the door, an elderly Chinese couple was pushing a breakfast cart. Alvin waved. "Hey, good morning, Uncle Cheng, Auntie Cheng."
Spotting the short teenager hiding behind the cart, practically trying to bury himself in the ground, Alvin grinned. "Kevin, heard you got a D in history last time. You're dead, kid. Mr. Wilson's gonna make you regret it—I guarantee it."
Auntie Cheng's face darkened. She smacked Kevin hard on the shoulder and yanked him out.
Head bowed, Kevin peeked up at Alvin and mumbled, "Good morning, Principal!"
Alvin gave him a knowing smirk, patted his shoulder as he passed, and said to Uncle Cheng, "Save me ten baozi and three soy milks. I'll pay when I get back." Then he pointed at Kevin and sneered. "Kid, you're so dead." With that, he took off running.
An early morning jog around his territory, a quick flirtation with Darya, who'd waited just to see him—Alvin, his ego sufficiently stroked, returned to the restaurant in high spirits.
Outside, Uncle Cheng and Auntie Cheng were already busy. Steamers of baozi were packed and handed to early risers heading to work. Kevin was in charge of bagging soy milk and handling payments. When he saw Alvin return, he jumped, nearly spilling the milk all over Old Kent.
Old Kent didn't get mad. Instead, he smirked at Kevin. "Kid, judging by your face, you're in for a rough day at school. Hah! I knew having Alvin as principal would make you brats suffer. Hah!"
Alvin greeted Old Kent. "Get me two workers from the kindergarten. $500 to fix the flooring and door upstairs.
"And hurry them up. There's $500,000 coming in soon. Talk to the teachers, see what equipment or toys they still need. Buy them fast. I don't wanna see two-year-olds running around the streets anymore."
Uncle Cheng, busy with his work, spoke up. "Just some carpentry, right? I'll do it for you. Simple stuff. No charge."
Alvin thought for a second. "$200 then. Tell Old Kent what materials you need, and he'll have them delivered." He waved off Uncle Cheng before the man could argue, took his breakfast, and headed inside.
Inside the restaurant, Jessica was already up, doing who-knows-what. When she saw Alvin, her face turned red, and she started scrubbing a table like her life depended on it.
Alvin chuckled. "Keep that up, and you'll rub the paint off."
Jessica ignored him, tossed the rag aside, grabbed a small comb, and started aggressively grooming Thor's neck. The massive wolf's tongue lolled out, looking utterly miserable.
Alvin shuddered. Best not provoke this girl—his furniture wasn't cheap.
Leaving the breakfast on the counter, Alvin headed upstairs to wake Nick. But as soon as he reached the counter, he spotted Nick hopping down on one leg through the small door. When Nick saw Alvin, he winked like he was trying to convey some secret message.
Plonking himself into his wheelchair, Nick grinned and called out loudly to Jessica, "Jessica, I think I need some coffee. There was an earthquake at home last night—scared me half to death."
Alvin smirked, watching Nick dig his own grave, and said nothing.
During breakfast, Nick got a glass of milk—spiked with salt. His baozi fell apart just as he was about to bite into the meat filling. His wheelchair got "accidentally" knocked over twice.
In despair, Nick looked to Alvin for help. But Alvin wasn't about to save the little troublemaker. He just watched as Nick got bullied from every angle.
The breakfast battle ended only when Nick surrendered with a bowed head.
At exactly seven, a big yellow school bus pulled up outside the restaurant, honking. Nick fled like his life depended on it, wheelchair and all, even forgetting his backpack.
Alvin shook his head, picked up Nick's bag, and walked out. He had some school business to attend to anyway.
Outside, he saw Kevin helping Nick load the wheelchair onto the bus while Nick hopped up the steps one-handed.
Alvin nodded at JJ, who kept a shotgun under his windshield, then tossed Nick's backpack into the bus. He climbed into his pickup truck, whistled for Doom to hop into the passenger seat, and left Thor behind to guard the house.