Marvel: Pay to Win Gambling 29

Chapter 29: The New Curriculum

I threw on my clothes in a hurry—didn’t even bother looking for fresh ones. The professor had called everyone to gather, and I was still dripping from the damn shower.

Kitty had gone in right after me. I figured I’d beat everyone to the hall before the questions and sideways glances started rolling in.

That plan lasted all of thirty seconds.

“Did you go to meet someone, Daniel?” Megan asked, her eyes squinting with suspicion as she spotted me walking out of Kitty’s room.

Not mine. Kitty’s.

And of course, my room just had to be on a completely different floor.

“Ah, yeah,” I said, lying like a champ. “Had to give Kitty something.”

Super vague. Super believable. Ten out of ten.

She didn’t press. Just nodded and walked beside me. I spotted Kurt and Hisako already waiting in the hall.

Kids, man. Always on time. Meanwhile, half the adults in this place couldn’t find their pants before noon.

I waited with the young ones, ruffled their hair, and promised another movie night. They got excited. That bought me some goodwill points.

Eventually, the rest of the cast wandered in.

Jean came out looking like she’d been in a fight with her pillow and lost. Ororo, on the other hand, looked like a walking shampoo commercial. Scott and Logan followed—one with cereal, the other with toast, like clockwork. Colossus had Illyana in tow, and Bobby shuffled in last, looking like a raccoon who’d seen too many loading screens. Safe bet he’d been gaming all night. Again.

Then, five minutes later, Xavier made his grand entrance. Hank pushed his wheelchair, which was rare. The professor usually liked to roll solo.

And right behind him—perfect timing—Kitty came sprinting down the stairs, hair still wet. She stopped right next to me. Of course.

Jean gave her a look. I gave the ceiling a look.

“I see everyone has gathered,” Xavier said, sounding like a dad who just caught his kids pretending they hadn’t been fighting.

“Is this about the curriculum, Professor?” Scott jumped in, already in leader mode.

I didn’t hate the guy. Didn’t know him either. Didn’t want to know him, honestly. But based on the way Jean looked at him like he was a wet sock and how Kitty rolled her eyes every time he talked, I wasn’t missing much.

He introduced himself like he was running for class president. Personally, I preferred Logan’s general lack of effort.

“Yes, Scott,” Xavier replied. “And I’ll also be discussing some new plans for the X-Men.”

That perked a few ears—mostly the older ones.

“But first, let’s discuss the curriculum,” the professor continued, positioned at the top of the staircase like some kind of wise wizard.

I crossed my arms. I’d already signed up for this circus. All I cared about now was the schedule. And maybe whether I could fake a stomach ache on Saturdays.

“I’m pleased to say that all of you agreed to take on the role of teachers,” Xavier went on. “Which opens the door for a variety of subjects.”

Yeah, we told him our specialties. Mine weren’t anything glamorous, but they paid the bills. Or they would, if we had bills. Or paychecks.

“Children,” he turned to the trio of mini mutants, “your schedule will be unique for now. Eventually, more students will join you.”

“Like us?” Hisako asked. “With powers?”

“Precisely.” Xavier nodded. “But to start, it’ll be just you three.”

The kids exchanged that wide-eyed look only people with zero idea what they’d signed up for can manage.

“You won’t have a fixed subject schedule,” he said, “but you will have a fixed study schedule.”

The room collectively squinted. Even I blinked twice.

“Instructors here have other duties—missions, emergencies, reality-warping disasters—so we can’t promise who’ll be available when. So instead of locking down subjects, we’re locking down study times.”

Ah. Flexible chaos. Got it.

“For example,” he continued, “if English is scheduled but the teacher’s away, and Math is free, we switch. The goal is consistent learning.”

Honestly? Not the worst idea I’ve heard from a guy who reads minds for a living.

“Eventually, we’ll add structure,” Xavier assured them. “For now, two classes per subject per week. Monday through Saturday.”

Cue the groans from the peanut gallery. Yeah, even the kids weren’t thrilled about Saturday school.

Neither was I. But we were getting paid a hundred and twenty grand. Could buy a lot of coffee. Or therapy.

“Now, for the daily timings.” He cleared his throat. “Classes will run from 8 a.m. to 11, and then from 1 p.m. to 3.”

Five hours. Not a tragedy. Not great either.

“Mornings are for Physical Education first thing,” he said, eyes locking on Bobby like he already knew the protests coming. “Logan will handle that. Piotr will fill in if needed.”

Waking up with exercise. Love that for us.

“After that—Science and Math. Hopefully they stay locked into that slot. Best time for logical thinking.”

Can’t argue there. My brain definitely shuts down after lunch.

“In the afternoon, we’ll rotate Literature, English, Social Studies, History, Moral Science, and Environmental Studies.”

None of which were mine. Praise be.

“Ororo will be teaching History and Geography, and Jean will handle Social and Moral Sciences,” Xavier said, glancing at the two of them while I silently wondered why Moral Science was still being treated like an actual science. Sounds more like something you’d hear from a church pulpit than a textbook.

“Environmental Studies will be taught by Illyana. Bobby’s got Literature. Piotr will cover Economics and serve as backup for Physical Education.”

He then turned to me and Kitty.

“Katherine will be teaching Biology and Chemistry, both as part of the science stream, and they'll be held during the morning classes.”

Biology and Chemistry in the morning. That’s one way to guarantee the kids start their day wondering why mitochondria is the powerhouse of anything.

I hoped the professor knew what he was doing. That was a lot of subjects for a group of wide-eyed baby mutants. The syllabus would have to be airtight, or they’d end up overwhelmed and burning out before they hit puberty.

“Mathematics and Physics will be taught by Daniel,” Xavier added with a smile in my direction. “Preferably the second period, but it can shift to third if needed.”

I nodded like I hadn’t just mentally cringed at the thought of lesson planning. I didn’t exactly look like a teacher, but I knew my way around a differential equation, and math and physics had always come easy. Teaching it to a group of gifted children, though? That was a new challenge.

“There’s no pressure to master everything right away,” Xavier said, clearly noticing the anxiety blooming in some of the kids’ faces. “The syllabus will be well-structured and paced so you can all learn at your own speed.”

Finally, something that didn’t sound like a supervillain’s evil monologue.

“These subjects will cover beginner to advanced material, spread over several years. The first three to four years will be mandatory; after that, you can choose your core focus areas.”

A slow burn. I liked it. Professional setup, too. Could’ve fooled me into thinking this wasn’t a school full of potential human nukes.

“So that’s it for the curriculum,” Xavier concluded. “We’ll begin next week. I trust everyone will be punctual and committed to their roles.”

Everyone gave the old man a respectful nod. He seemed satisfied.

“Now,” he added with a glint in his eye, “I know this can all sound tedious. Which is why there’ll be a little something extra.”

Cue the sudden interest from every corner, adults included.

“Your stay, your food, your education—it’s all free of charge,” he said. “In fact, you’ll actually earn money for attending class.”

Oh?

“For each class attended, you’ll earn five dollars. By the end of the week, that’s one hundred and fifty dollars.”

The kids lit up like Christmas trees. Xavier kept going, clearly enjoying the reactions.

“With that money, you’re free to buy snacks, toys, or whatever else you want.”

Six hundred bucks a month for kids? Not bad. Not bad at all. The adults shared a look—because we all knew a catch was coming.

“You’ll also be trained to control your powers,” Xavier said. “However—” there it was “—you’ll be able to hire any of your teachers to help you develop specific skills. Whether it’s learning a trick, mastering a technique, or even understanding your weaknesses—if you want more than the basics, you’ll need to pay.”

He looked directly at us.

“The teachers won’t offer advanced training unless the students pay with their earned money.”

It was more of a suggestion than a rule. A polite nudge. But we got the message.

“He wants to teach them about budgeting, economics, and real-world responsibility,” Kitty whispered beside me. I couldn’t argue with that. It was actually... kind of brilliant.

Xavier really did have a few cards up his sleeve.

“Will we be punished for missing class?” Hisako asked.

Xavier laughed. “No punishments—but snacks will be limited. If you want extras for fun times, I suggest showing up.”

Her eyes widened like someone had threatened her puppy. She nodded with enough force to shake her hair loose. Even Logan cracked a smirk.

“Now, children,” Xavier said warmly. “Time for breakfast. I need a word with the adults.”

Right on cue, Hank showed up.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll help you all.”

The kids started heading out, pausing just long enough to shoot me a quick glance before disappearing.

They were oddly attached to me. Even Hisako. I didn’t even save her.

Once they were gone, Xavier turned back to us.

“Any objections to the schedule?” he asked.

“It’s a good schedule, Professor,” Scott answered, sounding exactly like the guy who would raise his hand after the bell.

The rest of us just nodded in agreement.

“Teaching kids the value of saving money while sneakily bribing them to show up for class? That’s clever,” I said. “Although I give it a week before Hisako spends her entire fortune on chips and chocolate instead of hiring a tutor.”

The old man chuckled. “I’ll look into it.” He gave the room another glance. “But I trust everyone’s satisfied with the curriculum?”

We all nodded, and with that green light, he moved on.

“Then I’d like to discuss the next topic—regarding the X-Men.”

That got Scott’s full attention. His ears practically twitched.

“I’m sure most of you have figured it out by now, but Daniel will be part of the team.”

The girls smiled—except Illyana, who looked like she couldn’t care less if I joined the X-Men or the Muppets—and Bobby gave a subtle nod. The rest of the guys didn’t react much. Classic warm welcome.

“Oh, and he’s not required to wear the uniform.”

That sentence hit Scott harder than a slap. His sunglasses practically tightened.

“The uniform is our identity, Professor,” he said with a frown. “How can you excuse him from wearing it if he’s going to be one of us?”

“Is it?” Jean chimed in, a little too fast. “Is the uniform really our identity, or is it our powers—and the fact that we work together as a team?”

I had a feeling she would've disagreed with him even if he agreed with me. Love that energy.

“She’s not wrong, Scott,” Xavier said. “The uniform exists to protect your clothes during power usage and combat. Most normal clothing can’t handle energy blasts, claws, or, well... Logan.”

Fair point. Even if your powers didn’t shred your clothes, a brawl with someone who could punch through walls probably would.

“But Daniel doesn’t rely on powers that damage his clothing, nor is he a close-combat fighter,” the professor continued.

I shrugged. I hadn’t even thrown a punch yet—and if something could get past my power and still hurt me, pretty sure some fancy spandex wasn’t gonna save me.

“So he’s exempt.” Xavier then addressed the group again. “In fact, we may be redesigning the uniform. The ‘X’ will remain, of course, but the overall style might change. If anyone has suggestions, feel free to share.”

Pretty sure I caught Jean doing a mini fist-pump at the thought. Guess I wasn’t the only one who thought the current outfits looked like rejected superhero merch.

“Now, the final point,” Xavier said, his voice dropping slightly. “This one’s about funding.”

Confused glances were exchanged.

“What do you mean, Professor?” Ororo asked, concerned. “Are we running short on money?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “But we will be. With your new salaries and our future plans, we’ll need consistent sources of income.”

“Salaries?” Scott blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Daniel will be paid a million dollars a year as an X-Man,” Xavier said casually—too casually. The gasps around the room? Yeah, that was the moment he was aiming for. Nailed it. I could feel the side-eyes starting to bake me alive.

“But so will all of you,” he added before the pitchforks came out.

“We don’t need that much, sir,” Scott objected immediately, all righteous and noble. “We’re not in it for the money. We’re here to help.”

I barely stopped my eyes from rolling straight out of my skull.

“Scott,” Xavier said gently, “when more people join us in the future, we can’t expect them all to work for free.”

“Then we should only bring in those who would,” Scott insisted.

“It’s not that simple,” Xavier replied. “Yes, we can be selective at first—but as our numbers grow, we’ll need skilled people. And skilled people are rarely cheap. We’ll also need better facilities. All of that requires funding.”

Then he looked at me. “Daniel will help me operate a healing facility. We expect that will bring in enough income to sustain the salaries.”

I nodded. “We’ll be fine, Professor. People will sell their kidneys to get their kidneys healed.”

“And I’m also in talks with a mutant family in the UK about support.”

That part was news to me. No clue which tea-drinking telepath he was referring to, but I kept my face neutral.

“Hank will also be selling a few patents,” Xavier added. “He’s got researchers from top universities practically throwing money at him just for the chance to work under him.”

Three income streams. Not bad, if you counted the mystery Brits.

“With all of that, we should have enough for everything—and maybe even expansion.”

That caught Kitty’s attention. “Expansion?”

And that’s when the old man smiled. Not his usual polite smile. No, this one had a bit of mad genius under it.

“A way to unite all mutants, Katherine,” he said. “And for that, we’ll need money. A lot of it.”

Just what are you scheming, old man?