Marvel: Starting as a Time Criminal, Stealing Powers

The entire school—or rather, the entire Xavier Mansion—was much larger than Russell had imagined.

In addition to the main castle-like building used for classrooms, there were several dormitories, supply warehouses, and over a dozen acres of land, complete with an artificial lake.

It could only be said: Charles' father must've left him a fortune.

Inside the Principal's Office

Only Russell, Professor X, and Mystique remained in the room.

Russell wasn't surprised.

He'd already read about her in the S.H.I.E.L.D. files: Raven Darkhölme, formerly known as Mystique, had left the Brotherhood three years ago and returned to the X-Men. She now assisted Charles in managing the school.

"This is Miss Raven," Russell said, speaking first.

Mystique wasn't using her original blue-skinned form. Instead, she had taken on the appearance of a stylish office lady: tight skirt, black stockings, glasses, and a professional blouse.

Professor X glanced at her in surprise.

He couldn't understand why she chose to change her appearance today.

Does she not want this human to see her true form?

But Mystique remained calm. She nodded and said plainly:

"Just call me Darkhölme. I'm handling your assignment, per the agreement."

Aside from a few senior X-Men, the other Mutant students didn't know Russell's true identity.

Having a normal-looking human appear in the heart of the school could be unsettling to some students—especially those with fragile emotions.

It was one of the conditions Professor X had agreed to.

Russell raised an eyebrow.

"Are you the history teacher? I happen to be pretty good at history."

"I also know a bit of yoga. And I'm great at politics—I mean, yelling at the president counts, right?"

"School counselor? Sure, I can heal students' emotional trauma."

"If none of that works out… fine, I'll come clean—I'm actually a double PhD in physics and mathematics. At the very least, I can teach them elementary school math."

Professor X's mouth twitched slightly.

This S.H.I.E.L.D. agent isn't quite what I expected. Is this how casual they've become?

Mystique took a deep breath, trying to stay composed:

"Wolverine is already teaching history."

Russell raised his eyebrows.

"That's a bit narrow-minded, isn't it? Oh—right. You Americans only have 200 years of history..."

Mystique slammed the folder in her hands onto the table, leaned forward across the desk until her face was just inches from his, and snapped:

"Don't interrupt me again, Mr. Russell!"

Russell blinked and casually glanced downward.

Wow. That's quite the thunderstorm.

Since she was being so sincere, he decided to go with the flow:

"Alright, junior high sounds fine."

Mystique's chest heaved once, twice—then she abruptly straightened up, grabbed the documents, and barked:

"It's decided. You'll be part of the janitorial staff."

"If S.H.I.E.L.D. has a problem with that, tell them to send someone else!"

With that, she stormed out of the room.

Bang!

The door slammed behind her.

Russell shrugged helplessly and turned to Professor X:

"By the way, is she always this cranky? Or is it just that time of the month?"

Professor X chuckled internally.

You should feel lucky it wasn't Logan…

Outwardly, he smiled and said gently:

"Don't take it personally, Mr. Russell. We weren't actually planning for you to teach the kids."

"We've arranged an open class slot for you. You can speak on any topic you like—show them an inspirational movie, play some music, whatever you prefer."

Russell sighed, disappointed:

"Such a waste of talent. I really am a double PhD in mathematics and physics. There's no one on Earth who understands it better than me!"

"Of course. I completely believe you," Professor X said with a very believable look that said he didn't believe him at all.

Quickly changing the subject, he added:

"Your classroom and dorm are in this building. Raven's still outside. She'll take you there."

Russell didn't move, instead asking the most important question:

"Professor, what's my salary?"

Even the normally unflappable Charles Xavier was stunned.

You're here as a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative… and you want us to pay you?

The old man took a deep breath. For the sake of peace—and his lifespan—he gave in.

"Same pay as Logan…"

"Mr. Russell, I'm feeling a bit tired. If you'll excuse me."

He turned his wheelchair around, showing Russell the back of his head as a polite goodbye.

Even his bald spot feels majestic… Russell thought with a sigh as he walked out of the office.

Mystique was waiting, leaning against the wall.

She saw him come out and wordlessly turned and began walking.

What she didn't see was that Russell's usual playful expression had faded.

He now looked at her deeply, as if seeing through something.

After reaching the fourth floor, Mystique spoke without turning back:

"There are more than a dozen teachers at Xavier's School. All of them are Mutants."

"So your 'mutant ability' must be not needing to eat, huh?"

Russell remained silent.

He suspected that Mystique was getting revenge on him… but he had no evidence.

Still, he gave it a shot:

"Actually, I can pose as a superhuman. I'm really strong. Black Widow and Captain America couldn't even beat me yesterday. They were looking at me with admiration!"

Hmph. I could crush you with one hand…

Mystique sneered inwardly and replied:

"This is for your safety. Xavier's School isn't some greenhouse for flowers. Most of the time, we train through combat. All the teachers are X-Men—and they spar with the students regularly."

She didn't give Russell a chance to respond before opening a dark red walnut door.

"This will be your dorm room from now on."

"And don't wander around at night. Sometimes Cass transforms into a werewolf. We monitor him, but… we like to prepare for the worst."

Russell glanced around the room.

The living space was about 20 square meters. Inside was a bedroom with a single bed, nightstand, bookshelf, and a bathroom to the left.

Honestly, it looked far better than the dorms he'd seen in movies.

He was quite satisfied.

Then Mystique pointed at the room directly across the hall:

"That's my room."

"Per the contract, you're not allowed to roam the halls at night. I'll be keeping an eye on you from across the way."

Russell immediately tightened the collar of his shirt:

"I'm a conservative man with strong moral values. Please don't peek at me while I shower."

"Oh really?"

Mystique slightly straightened up—her figure… eye-catching.

"Well, sometimes, people need to be a little flexible. Not everything has to be so rigid," Russell added, eyeing her curves with newfound 'respect.'

"Hmph. Men."

Mystique shook her head and headed downstairs. From below, her voice drifted up:

"I'll show you the classrooms and other areas next. But the basement level is off-limits to you."

After touring the entire academy, evening had already arrived.

Russell returned to his room, and not long after, Mystique pushed the door open, holding a burger and a bottle of water.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled:

"Well, the school's already distributed your bio to the students. To maintain your cover, you'll have to stick to eating fast food from now on."

Then, she suddenly leaned in. Her scent wafted over as she bent close, whispering in his ear:

"Of course, you could always sneak out at night. You can still supervise the school during the day, can't you?"

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

Russell tilted his head, his eyes locking with hers—less than five centimeters apart.

The atmosphere shifted subtly.

Mystique smirked inwardly.

Then suddenly, Russell spoke:

"Hmph!"

"I knew it! Xavier's School is full of hypocrites!"

"I'm going to ask Charles what the hell is going on. If this continues, S.H.I.E.L.D. will reevaluate the arrangement!"

He stood up abruptly.

Mystique's face changed instantly. She stumbled—whether intentionally or not—and collapsed into his arms, pushing him back down onto the bed.

She didn't get up. Instead, she looked up at him with a hint of grievance and said softly:

"Don't go, Mr. Russell."

"I didn't mean anything by it. I've just been stuck at this academy for three years—it gets boring."

"I thought if you were heading out at night, maybe I could tag along. Charles wouldn't blame me."

Russell raised an eyebrow.

"Is that really the reason?"

Mystique nodded vigorously, her expression full of 'sincerity.'

Russell looked as though he had suddenly understood something. He gently helped her up:

"Ah. I misunderstood you."

"But S.H.I.E.L.D. is strict. If I leave the academy at night, I risk being replaced."

Mystique looked disappointed and sighed:

"Then… forget it."

"I guess staying in the academy isn't so bad. It's a lot more relaxing."

She said goodbye to him as if nothing had happened and returned to her room.

Back in her bathroom, Mystique pulled a small waterproof bag from inside the water tank.

Inside was an old flip phone.

She quickly typed a message:

[Plan failed. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent won't leave the academy. I said from the beginning this idea was stupid.]

A few seconds later, a reply came in:

[Don't worry. Even if that didn't work, at least you got close to him. Alright, prepare to release the wolf next.]

[Received.]

Mystique put the phone back in the tank, stripped down, and began showering.

Meanwhile, in the room across the hall—which she couldn't see—Russell lay on his bed, the very scene of Mystique putting the phone away reflected in his eyes.

A few seconds later, the image disappeared.

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

In that earlier sacrifice, the Mutant had mentioned their target was the X-Men—which was exactly why he'd come here.

But he hadn't expected to catch a big fish so quickly.

This Mutant academy… really is the right place for me.

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