The very next morning, the elderly principal of Midtown School of Science and Technology imdiately called in a construction crew to install protective tal bars on every window in the school building.
As punishnt for Blake Thorne, the school issued an administrative penalty in the form of a single major disciplinary record.
However, Flash Thompson's parents were clearly not willing to let things end there.
They stord into the principal's office in a fury, demanding Blake's expulsion from the school and compensation of fifty thousand dollars.
Blake had no interest in arguing.
He simply pressed a button on his phone.
Eight lawyers arrived at the scene almost imdiately.
If they wanted money—fine. They could deal directly with his lawyers.
Whether these lawyers were the best in the industry was debatable.
But one thing was certain—they were the most expensive.
After reviewing all the facts and reconstructing the full sequence of events, the eight lawyers held a brief discussion among themselves. Soon after, they selected one man to speak on their behalf.
He was a middle-aged man with a bald head, thinning hair, and thick-frad glasses. His deanor radiated confidence as he glanced at Blake and asked calmly,
"Mr. Blake Thorne, would you like Flash Thompson alone to go to prison… or should his parents go with him?"
"Or perhaps," he added thoughtfully, "we could include the principal as well?"
This wasn't a bluff.
The lawyer himself couldn't understand why their firm had dispatched eight elite attorneys for what seed like a simple case of a schoolyard fight.
But since they were already here, they had to provide top-tier service.
Their hourly rates were astronomical.
And if the client wasn't satisfied, the firm would be penalized.
— — —
Blake: …
This money suddenly felt extrely well spent.
Flash Thompson's Parents: …
What does this have to do with us?! Why are we the ones going to prison?!
The Elderly Principal: …
What?! too?! Isn't this just kids fighting?! You're really going to drag into this?!
— — —
Blake wiped the unexpected sweat from his forehead and looked at the bald lawyer with a confused expression.
"That's not necessary. No one needs to go to prison," he said. "Just give them a serious warning. As long as they don't co looking for trouble with again, that's enough."
The bald lawyer—known in professional circles as the "Law Enforcer Without a Uniform"—nodded in understanding and turned to Flash's parents.
In a flat yet razor-sharp tone, he spoke,
"As you heard, my client has decided not to pursue criminal charges."
"But…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "If you continue to play with fire, then I—and my seven colleagues—will file a lawsuit in the New York City Court."
"We will charge Flash Thompson with bullying, racial discrimination, and leading a violent group within a school environnt."
"In addition, we will request a drug test. Who knows? Perhaps your son has experinted with illegal substances."
"As for the two of you," he continued coldly, "we will sue you for intimidation and extortion against a minor, resulting in severe psychological trauma to our client."
"Under the United States Child and Adolescent Protection Act, you may face six to eight months in prison, along with a fine of five thousand dollars."
"And I am very confident I can make you spend next Christmas inside a prison cell."
"Interested in trying a new kind of Christmas?"
Faced with eight impeccably dressed lawyers and a barrage of legal clauses being recited one after another, Flash Thompson's parents turned deathly pale.
— — —
For so reason, the bald lawyer reminded Blake of soone from his past.
Even though he had spent tens of thousands of dollars on legal consultation, the final result was deeply satisfying.
Before leaving, Blake even asked for the lawyer's business card.
The na printed on it was: Saul Goodman.
With just one glance, Blake rembered it.
From that day onward, the na "Ruler of Midtown" spread like a legend throughout the entire school.
And Blake Thorne officially beca the most feared figure at Midtown School of Science and Technology.
Thanks to his friend's overwhelming reputation, Peter Parker—also known as Spider-Man—enjoyed a much more peaceful school life for the remainder of his years there.
At the very least… he was no longer a target of bullying.
Fortunately, Peter was kind-hearted and valued justice.
Even as Blake's close friend, he never used that status to oppress others. His character remained true to the original story—if anything, brighter and more confident.
Only one thing hadn't changed.
When it ca to romance, he was still unlucky.
The two most popular girls in class—Gwen and Mary Jane—didn't seem particularly interested in him.
— — —
Two years passed.
Blake was now seventeen years old and officially a third-year student.
anwhile, Peter Parker still had to complete a fourth year, due to the four-year high school system in the United States.
And it was during that fourth year that Peter was bitten by a radioactive spider, awakening superpowers that would turn him into Spider-Man—the cri-fighting hero.
— — —
That afternoon, the school dismissal bell had just rung.
Inside the biology laboratory, Blake remained seated alone when his phone rang right on ti.
At the front of the classroom, a beautiful biology teacher with a sexy figure and long red hair had just finished tidying up the lesson materials—two dissected white mice—while speaking casually,
"School's over. Blake, you may take your call."
"And… see you on Monday. Hopefully today's lesson didn't ruin your appetite for dinner."
That teacher was none other than a secret agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.—Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow.
Blake glanced at her and gave a small smile before answering the call from Tony Stark.
"Tony, what's up?"
"Oh~ Blake! Don't tell you forgot?" Tony said dramatically. "I told you last week—today's the day you move into your new house!"
"The one designed by the genius architect known as Tony Stark himself!"
"Yeah, yeah… the one and only house in the world," Blake replied.
Tony's voice sounded proud—but also strangely like he was grinding his teeth.
"Oh, really? So should I call a moving service or—"
Before Blake could finish, Tony cut him off imdiately.
"No need! Everything's arranged. The driver's already waiting for you at the school gate."
"If you want, invite a few friends. We can throw a small housewarming party. What do you think?"
"Just… don't invite that biology teacher of yours!" Tony added hastily. "Good grief… two years ago, when I saw her at a restaurant, I thought Aunt Mary—who's been dead for years—had co back to life!"
Blake glanced at the red-haired figure standing at the front of the classroom and replied aningfully,
"Oh? Are you sure? If I don't invite her… you'll definitely regret it."
Blake then openly took a photo of Natasha and sent it straight to Tony via social dia.
Three seconds later—
Tony replied in a panicked voice, "Blake, my brother! Please make sure she cos to the party! I'm begging you!"
Hearing the word "party," Blake's classmates in the biology lab imdiately erupted in cheers.
Blake chuckled softly and replied,
"Alright. But… you might need to rent an extra bus."
After all, they'd been classmates for years.
Although there had been conflicts when he first transferred, over ti everyone had co to understand Blake's true nature.
He was actually friendly—as long as no one went looking for trouble with him.
If housewarming parties were already an Arican tradition, why not invite the whole class?
— — —
And as for the biology teacher—still standing at the front of the classroom, pretending to tidy up equipnt while clearly eavesdropping on the conversation?
Blake knew very well.
She had been sent by S.H.I.E.L.D.
And she had co to this school for him.
The only thing Blake didn't yet understand was this—
What exactly had made an organization as massive as S.H.I.E.L.D. start paying attention to him in the first place?
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
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