The Greedy Frog
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Marvel: Pay to Win Gambling 4
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 15:26:46 +0000 UTCChapter 4: The X-Men
[Salem Center, Westchester County, New York]
Trust me when I say this.
Yeah, I know. That line usually means don’t trust the person saying it. But this time? You really should.
Because trust me when I say —there’s nothing more soul-crushing than sitting through a half-hour car ride in total silence.
Normally, that might’ve been a good thing. Peaceful, even. I’d love to just stare out the window and soak in the scenery. But with Storm sitting right next to me—silent, composed, unreadable—and the Uber driver sneaking glances like we were some kind of tabloid headline? Yeah. Silence wasn’t really an option.
“So… aren’t you going to ask me more questions?” I finally broke the quiet, glancing at her.
“I will. Once we arrive at the location,” she replied, her voice cool and detached.
Right. Of course.
I get it. She’s probably dealt with a hundred mutants like me—or, well, mutants. Maybe not like me. And I’m sure there’s some protocol she has to follow. Comes with the X-Men territory.
“I’m jealous of that poker face,” I said, leaning back against the seat. “My emotions tend to host a party on my face without asking.”
I probably look weird to her. This massive dude with a personality like mine? Doesn’t exactly scream ‘menacing omega mutant.’ But it’s not my fault I got dropped into this body like a stray soul in the wrong dimension.
And her mind? Iron fortress.
Every time I stole a glance—okay, maybe more than a glance—at her figure, she didn’t flinch. But somehow, her expression shifted just enough to make it clear she knew. Like her brain automatically filed my sin-soaked gaze under “annoyance” and moved on.
The Sin of Lust was definitely in play, but her willpower? Untouchable. Kind of a shame, really.
“Am I allowed to go inside?” the driver finally asked, glancing at the towering gate ahead.
Storm gave him a short nod. “Keep driving.”
No drama, no hesitation. Just straight through the gate like she owned the place.
A buzzer sounded as we approached, followed by a voice crackling through the intercom.
“Who is it?”
Storm casually rolled down her window. “Storm.”
That was apparently the magic word, because without another beat, the gates opened with a low hum.
“Please drive in,” came the follow-up from the intercom before it went quiet again.
And holy hell… the place was massive.
“How… big is this place?” I asked, my jaw probably halfway to the floor.
“A little over one hundred forty acres,” she said, like it was no big deal.
Nonchalant didn’t even begin to cover it.
“With how casually you said that, either you’re incredibly rich and used to places like this… or completely out of touch with regular life.”
The words were out before I could stop them. And the second they landed, I realized how stupid that sounded.
“Considering I get stabbed and shot at every time I step outside,” she said, her voice still calm but now carrying an unmistakable edge, “I’d say I’m very in touch with the outside world.”
The car rolled to a stop. And even though her tone didn’t change much, I knew I’d screwed up.
“I’m sorry.”
Dumb. Real dumb. I needed to learn to put my brain through a filter before I spoke.
“Get out,” she said, opening the door without looking back.
Yep. Definitely pissed.
“Alright,” I muttered, slipping out of the car while she paid the driver.
Look, I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a private jet? A teleportation portal? Something X-Men-ish. But never in a million years did I think I’d get Ubered into Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.
That being said…
Goddamn.
“It’s massive.”
And I meant that. Bigger than any mansion I’d ever seen—not that I’d seen many from up close, but still. The place was ridiculous.
Even the walkway was a piece of art: manicured shrubs, colorful flowers, a classy fountain, and not a speck of dust in sight.
“Don’t be intimidated by the people,” Storm said as we walked. “They can come off strong, but they’re all kind. Everyone here has powers, like you and me.”
For a second, it felt like she was talking to a kid. But thinking about it, maybe she was just trying to make me feel… welcome. Not the worst thing in the world when you’re stumbling through a new life with no memories and a cursed skill or two.
As we approached the entrance, the massive double doors swung open—and behind them sat a man. Bald, calm, and smiling gently from a wheelchair.
Charles Francis Xavier.
Telepath extraordinaire. Founding father of the X-Men.
A literal legend.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Hayes,” he said, wheeling aside to give me a view of the mansion’s stunning interior.
For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I should be awed by the sheer grandeur of the place—or freaked out that he already knew my name.
But a glance at Storm answered that.
Of course he knew who I was.
This man is terrifying.
And his habit of casually slipping into people's minds without permission? Seriously concerning.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, offering the most charming smile I could muster—though I couldn’t help the chill that ran down my spine. Being around a telepath like him was like sitting in a room with all your secrets printed on your shirt.
“Let’s go,” Storm whispered, taking the lead. I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed behind her.
So this was the X-Mansion.
Legendary. Iconic. A birthplace for stories, battles, tragedies… and now, apparently, me.
It almost felt comical. Like I’d stumbled into a comic book and was waiting for the punchline.
“I must apologize for the lack of attendance, Mr. Hayes,” Xavier said as we walked. “You might have felt more at ease surrounded by others with gifts like your own. Unfortunately, many of them are currently away.”
“It’s fine, sir,” I replied, waving it off. “And please, call me Daniel.”
Xavier turned slightly to give me a kind smile. “Then I insist you call me Xavier, or Professor—whichever feels more comfortable.”
Professor it is. Calling Charles Xavier by his first name felt… sacrilegious.
“Are you also like me, Professor?” I asked, playing dumb. No point in advertising my oddball status more than I already had.
“In a sense,” he said. “Just with different powers.”
Thank God he couldn’t read my mind right now. If he could see what was actually going on inside my head, we’d probably need a much longer, much more awkward conversation.
“I’m what you’d call a telepath,” he explained. “I can read minds—but don’t worry. I never do so without permission.”
I barely managed to keep a straight face at that bold-faced lie.
“So, how many people stay here?”
Over the years, hundreds of mutants had lived at the X-Mansion. But right now? I was curious. Who were the current members of the X-Men? And didn’t they also run a student program alongside their world-saving business?
“There are five men, six including myself,” Xavier said. “And four girls. Though three are away on an unexpected mission, and another three are currently… off the map.”
Off the map, huh?
He said that like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“I see,” I said casually.
And surprisingly, I did. This was their normal. My life was weird enough already—might as well roll with it.
“What about the others?” I asked.
“Hank and I are the only men currently present,” he said. “As for the women—you’ve already met Storm. The other one here at the moment is Jean.”
He glanced over at me and offered another smile. “We’ll first meet Hank and conduct a scan of your mutant status. After that, you’ll be introduced to Jean and hopefully the rest if they arrive soon.”
So he did want to assess my rank. He probably already had a rough idea—telepaths always do—but wanted a formal readout. A data point. Something tangible.
Honestly? I wanted that too.
I was curious. Would their tech align with my system’s evaluation? Would it see me as stronger… or weaker?
Without wasting time, we took a sharp turn and descended into what could only be described as a futuristic underground complex. The aesthetic shifted drastically—from classy royal mansion to sleek, high-tech sci-fi lab.
Metallic walls lined the halls. Everything looked reinforced, insulated, and way more advanced than anything available to the general public. I couldn’t help but look around in awe.
“Is that a stasis chamber?” I asked, stopping at a large glass capsule that looked straight out of a space opera.
“An acceleration pod,” Xavier corrected. “Used for rapid healing. Once medicine is administered, the pod accelerates cell regeneration. Cuts down healing time drastically.”
I stared, speechless.
This was technology that could revolutionize medicine—and it was just chilling in their basement. Stuff like this made you wonder: Do the X-Men help the world… or just themselves?
“Don’t touch anything,” Storm warned, her eyes catching my fingers hovering near one of the glass chambers.
Right. Hands to myself.
By now we’d passed through multiple sections, each one more advanced than the last, until we finally reached a dimly lit room.
“Hank!” Xavier called out, his voice echoing through the space. “Are you busy?”
I remembered the name.
Henry McCoy. Hank. Or as most people knew him—Beast.
Not exactly the most well-covered X-Man, but definitely one of the smartest. A brilliant scientist trapped in a body cursed with strength and fur.
Sure, he had durability, longevity, healing… but all wrapped up in a blue, furry exterior that looked more animal than man.
“Ah, Professor Xavier,” came a deep voice from the shadows. “Give me a minute.”
What followed was about a minute’s worth of chaos—metallic clattering, furniture scraping, and the occasional grunt—before the source finally revealed itself.
A blue-furred, beastly-looking figure emerged from the mess with the posture of a man who’d just been caught doing something mildly embarrassing.
“Oh, is this the one I sensed earlier?” he asked, tilting his head as his sharp eyes scanned me from across the room.
“Yes,” Xavier replied. “It was his presence that Cerebro detected.”
He turned toward me, his tone softening slightly. “And I apologize, Daniel, for the flood of information. This is Henry McCoy—a researcher, a fellow X-Man, and a dear friend. He’ll be handling your classification scan.”
Storm stood silently behind me, ever composed. I took the cue to step forward, offering my hand.
Hank met it with a firm grip and a surprisingly warm smile.
“I know this might be a lot to process, but don’t worry. You’ve got a strong presence,” he said, still giving me the once-over. “And the fact that you retained all your human features? That puts you in the lucky category—power and looks.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said with a grin.
“Oh, you should. You wouldn’t want to end up a beast like me.”
“Hank,” Xavier said with a long-suffering sigh, “we’ve talked about this.”
“I know, Professor,” Hank chuckled. “It was a joke.”
Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the exchange. But it seemed like I was in good hands—blue fur and all.
“We should proceed with the assessment,” Storm suggested. “Although I believe all of us already have a general sense of where he stands.”
So they had been making guesses.
“I hope you’re comfortable with this, Daniel?” Xavier asked, though something in his tone told me that this scan was happening, with or without my approval.
Still, I nodded. No point in resisting.
“Don’t be nervous,” Beast said with a calm smile. “It’s a simple screening. A few sensors strapped across your pulse points—no pain, no discomfort.”
That, of course, turned out to be a lie.
He led me to a raised platform, backed by a transparent glass wall and wired with tubes and straps. One by one, he secured the devices across my arms and chest.
It didn’t hurt… but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
Then the machine powered on, humming low as a strange sensation tickled down my spine.
“Vitals are steady,” Hank reported. “Your heart’s stable. No signs of internal conflict or energy strain—so whatever power you have, it’s not damaging your body. That’s good.”
I already knew that from the system, but I gave him a nod anyway.
“Now, moving onto classification.” He tapped a few keys, eyes flickering across the monitor. “Beta… Alpha…”
He paused.
“…Close to Omega.”
Close?
That was kind of a letdown.
“We expected as much,” Xavier said, his gaze fixed on the screen. “The real question is—does it go beyond?”
Apparently, the analysis wasn’t finished.
And sure enough, just as he finished that sentence, Beast’s eyes widened.
“…Omega,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent. “We might have our third Omega-level mutant here, Professor. Fourth, if we count Iceman.”
A slow smile spread across Xavier’s face. “That’s—”
Beep.
A high-pitched tone cut him off.
The screen flashed.
Both Xavier and Hank stiffened immediately.
“Is that…” Xavier leaned forward slightly, his voice uncertain. “Is that a bug?”
Storm, still standing to the side, furrowed her brow. “What’s going on?”
Hank's hands flew across the keyboard. He stared, paused… then turned slowly toward Xavier, disbelief etched into his features.
“No… not a bug.” He glanced at me, then back at the screen. “We don’t just have a new Omega among us, Professor.”
Xavier’s eyes locked onto mine, sharp and searching.
“We…” Hank exhaled, almost like he didn’t believe the words himself. “We have a beyond-Omega potential among us.”
