Alvin had no idea how Bruto and the others had managed to get Poseidon, that down-and-out loser, on board, and he didn't want to know.
The useless sea god could only maintain his vitality by relying on the blood of a hundred-headed basilisk. Alvin couldn't even guess what kind of tribute he might want.
But given Bruto and the others' personalities, Poseidon—who had changed his name to Arthur—would have a hard time getting anything out of them.
In fact, in terms of control over the oceans alone, the former chief of the seas might not even measure up to Nemo II, who held a busted trident.
Seeing the disdain on Alvin's face, Bruto ingratiatingly poured him a glass of whiskey and said, "Principal Alvin, please help us out. We just need about thirty Hellhounds, and we can get our project underway.
"Alexei helped us get in touch with the U.S. Navy's logistics office in Peru. The decommissioned warships there are going for scrap prices, even with the electronic equipment included."
Bruto bared his golden teeth with a menacing grin. "Give us three months at most, and we'll have those Mutants who gave you trouble locked up in prison, working to atone for their sins."
Alvin waved his hand helplessly. "Just get the hell out of here!
"I'm sick to death of the sight of you!"
Bruto stood up with a "heh heh" and said, "So that means you agree, right?
"I'll go find Sarakoff, the school's security guard. That guy's an expert at training Hellhounds.
"I need to get some of his secret methods...
"I don't know why John Wick's Hellhounds are about to bankrupt him, while Sarakoff has two Hellhounds and barely seems to spend anything on them."
Alvin waved him off dejectedly. "Go on. Once you've sorted out