Nicholas Cage, a retired professor from the Mathematics Department at the former Columbia University, was the first teacher Alvin had "recruited" since taking over the school.
This old guy had the same name as a Hollywood star Alvin had known in his previous life. He was rough-looking and fat, with the traditional personality of a Western cowboy. He hadn't been very willing to come, and had even put up a fierce resistance.
But after Alvin "invited" him to visit the school again and again, his passion for teaching was rekindled. In his own words, the gist was that although the school's system might not produce an Einstein, it would certainly cultivate plenty of talented mathematicians.
He loved this school's teaching system. Students who didn't do their homework got punished twice as hard. The Discipline Office taught students who disrespected their teachers how to behave. And if a student committed a serious offense, the little black room converted from a storage shed would make him regret it for the rest of his life.
This place looked more like a prison than a school, but the old guy believed it was the best place for cultivating students and the fairest place for their future.
There were no class distinctions here. Every student was treated equally, and grades were what counted.
That was different from other schools, which quietly sorted children into classes even while they were still studying.
Children from ordinary families enjoyed learning and growing up. Children from wealthy families attended prestigious schools, but faced enormous academic pressure and had to study other subjects, like the arts, in their spare time.
By the time they started applying to college or entered the workforce, children from wealthy families had a much higher starting point than those from ordinary families, and things were much easier for them.
Here, all the children were the same. Even members of the school's basketball, baseball, and football teams had to pass their exams to participate in training.
Alvin didn't believe in any nonsense about lacking a talent for studying. If you could play sports well and understand strategy, you could pass your exams.
In his previous life, one of his son's classmates had scored only 85 on an IQ test, yet their teacher had managed to teach him well enough to pass every subject.
So here, Alvin didn't believe in tears. He believed only in grades.
"Damn it, Alvin! You kidnapped me and brought me here to teach students, and I came. But what the hell did you do? You spent the money on raising the walls, and even put up a goddamn electric fence!
"I don't object to that, but could you at least buy the teaching equipment I asked you for? I don't even have a decent computer! You bastard, if I don't see the computer I asked for by the end of this week, I swear I'll—"
Alvin stared at the old guy, waiting for him to say he was leaving so he could readily agree and send him home to retire.
The old geezer wanted a Multimedia Teaching Center, and Alvin had agreed. But asking for a supercomputer was going too far.
The whole school's teachers could use it once they got it, but even an outdated supercomputer cost several million dollars.
Where was Alvin supposed to get that kind of money? Was he supposed to take a few big dogs to rob Stark Tower and steal a supercomputer?
Professor Cage thought it over. His career in his twilight years was here, after all, and he just couldn't bring himself to leave. After holding it in for a long while, he finally said, "I'll complain about you to the Department of Education!"
Alvin shook his head in disappointment. "Professor Cage, you have to understand that our school isn't well-off either! What can you complain about me to the Department of Education? Our students only go up to 12th Grade. What do we need that thing for?
"Look, Principal Nelson's hair has turned white from worrying over the school's meager budget. You're a retired professor; you should understand, right? Don't worry, we'll get a supercomputer. We just have to endure the hard times before we can enjoy the good ones. As soon as the school's finances improve, we'll get started on it."
There was a saying in China: "A stone from a latrine is both smelly and hard." It described people like Professor Cage perfectly. After hearing Alvin out, the professor remained unmoved and looked at him with contempt. "Anyone can see you're an ignorant bastard who never got a higher education. You want to make this school successful, but you think teachers don't matter?
"Do you know how many highly educated people in the United States study mathematics and physics, then wait in line at their universities' supercomputers just to verify their experimental results?
"Once you have one, I guarantee highly qualified people will beat down your door to apply for jobs! You ignorant fool, all you know how to do is build walls and buildings. You don't understand that talent is what matters most at a school."
The old professor's words stung Alvin. He'd never gone to college, but even he knew that talent mattered most. Was it really okay to look down on him so openly?
Alvin was tempted, but he still spread his hands and said bluntly, "I don't have any money. What can we do?"
The old man spoke with great authority, offering his grand plan. "No money? Levy contributions from the Hell's Kitchen gangs. Their kids all have to go to school here. The school needs their help, so shouldn't the parents pitch in?
"As I understand it, Hell's Kitchen has more than twenty gangs, big and small. If each one contributes an average of a hundred thousand, that should be enough. I have an old friend in Columbia University's Supply Department. They're looking to transfer a supercomputer, and I can get a very good price."
As he finished, the old guy winked at Alvin, acting like he had powerful connections.
Alvin sucked in a breath at Professor Cage's suggestion. Was this guy a professor or a bandit? Which one of them was the gangster? How had he, with that robber's temperament, managed to survive into his seventies in the dangerous world of Marvel?
Still, two million for a supercomputer was a great deal. But trying to levy money from the gangs was pure fantasy.
These small-time gangs weren't Kingpin, with a huge empire and money to spare. If you squeezed a dollar out of one of them, they'd find a way to get five dollars back from somewhere else. Alvin would never do that.
He couldn't call it asking the gangs for money; that wouldn't fly. They had to donate voluntarily. That would depend on the school's teaching quality and college acceptance rate this year.
Once the school had a good acceptance rate, the gang bosses would learn that their kids could take a different path from their own. Then holding a fundraiser would be easy. But right now, it just wasn't possible.
Alvin rubbed his nose, wondering if he should ask Kingpin for another handout. But if you kept shearing the same sheep, it would eventually go crazy.
Alvin looked helplessly at Professor Cage. "Professor, asking the gangs for money is the worst option. We definitely can't do that. You can keep negotiating with them for now. If it comes to it, I'll take some money from the budget for the next school building, and have Nelson see if he can get a loan.
"But we have to get it done this semester. We can't just muddle through without a supercomputer. No other high school in the entire United States would dare try to get one."
Alvin had no choice. He'd conned his way into bringing this big shot on board. The man was unquestionably capable, but his temper was terrible, and he was always blowing up. It was hard to put up with.
The old man was pleased with Alvin's humble attitude. He straightened his tie and said smugly, "This is my responsibility. There are several promising kids in 12th Grade. I can write them recommendation letters and have them try for Columbia University.
"I spoke with Professor Wilson. Half these kids could score above 22 on this year's ATC Exam. Ha! You bastard, the only thing I like about you is your teaching system. You can't train a horse without a whip."
Then the old guy's tone changed. He sounded like a loan shark demanding payment. "Hurry up and get me the money. The supercomputer has to be brought in first. Have Nelson get a loan for the building. I can introduce him to a few banks. The people in charge there are all my students."
The old man looked as vicious as a loan shark forcing someone to sign a contract. Alvin and Nelson nodded meekly and quickly agreed.
Seeing that Alvin had agreed, the old man happily patted him on the shoulder. "You won't regret it!"
Before you continue