Chapter 149: R: Cobblepot's Happy Life (Part 1)

Cat Getan's first law is: here, things always go in a bad direction. If you have a bad premonition about something, it will definitely come true.

And Cat Getan's second law is: in Cat Getan, no matter how correct your starting point is, how clever your method is, and how perfect your plan is, they can eventually turn it into a pile of shit.

This vocational school jointly founded by more than a dozen big gangs is located in the Living Hell on the East Side, because due to the construction and transformation here, the hardware facilities have become the best in the entire East Side, and it is also the only place in the entire East Side where you can find an environment and atmosphere relatively suitable for a school.

Note, it is relatively suitable.

When Schiller came to the Living Hell again, it had changed a lot.

The transformed Living Hell, although still complicated and crowded, is at least no longer old and dilapidated. The alleys are still very narrow, but at least they are clean. The corridors are still very cramped, but at least the light source is sufficient, and there are signs, so people won't get lost.

The vocational school is opened in the empty room on the 8th floor of the east building of the Living Hell. Outside is the terrace on the 8th floor, which can be used by students for free activities.

Originally, this was to be designed as a laundry room, but due to the change of the water pipe route, this place was left vacant.

The great location with a terrace was of course controlled by the Mooney Gang, the largest gang here, and the Mooney Gang was also forced by more than a dozen other big gangs to hand over this location to open a vocational school for them.

So far, the style of this matter is still normal, although this matter itself sounds a bit ridiculous, it has not exceeded Schiller's understanding of Cat Getan.

Just as Schiller predicted, the gangs warmly welcomed his arrival and invited him to give a lecture here.

The content of the course didn't have any special requirements. Simply put, teach them what you taught the Falcone family members.

Schiller had long expected this, so he didn't shirk. He walked onto the podium, intending to talk about the history of Cat Getan City and the development process of the gang industry, just like he usually did at the Falcone Manor.

This classroom is relatively large, at least compared to other rooms in the Living Hell, it is considered spacious.

But the forty-something students below were already crowded. When Schiller walked onto the podium, he swept a glance downward and found that the people below were still young, the oldest not exceeding 20, and the youngest about ten years old.

This is also very normal. Gang bosses are not stupid, of course they know that a thirty or forty-year-old drunkard, even if he can come to school, will not have any future.

And these young people, even if they have some bad habits now, at least their brains have not been poisoned by alcohol, and the speed of learning things is definitely faster than middle-aged people.

Schiller has a habit. No matter where he is teaching, the first thing he does at the beginning of the class is to take attendance.

As a result, this class didn't even have a roster. The gang boss staring at the bottom could only take a piece of paper and let the students write their names on it themselves.

This piece of paper turned around at the bottom. When Schiller took it up, he covered his forehead and said somewhat helplessly, "Fine, it seems the situation here is worse than I thought."

But he maintained the professional quality of a teacher as much as possible. Schiller said, "First of all, what I need you to write is your real name, not your nickname and alias. Who is this person called Tire? Can you raise your hand and show me?"

A little fat boy at the bottom raised his hand. He was still triumphant and smiled at the person next to him, then shouted, "It's me! Teacher! I am Tire! Tire that will explode!"

"Fine, then tell me what your name is? What is your surname?"

"I am just called Tire. My mother and the people around me call me that, because I was very fat when I was born."

"Then you must have a surname, right?"

The little fat boy wrinkled his face and said, "I hadn't been born yet when my dad died. I don't know what his surname was. As for my mother, I only know her name is Bonnie..."

"Fine, you sit down." Schiller continued to look at that piece of paper and said, "Then who is this person called... Red Truck?"

A black man wearing a red jacket, with lip rings and nose rings, stood up and said, "It's me! I am the drag racing king of this area! Teacher, do you want to ship goods? Find me, that's right! From the Living Hell to Elizabeth Street, I can drive there in 10 minutes!"

"Then you are really..." Schiller paused. He recalled and found that from here to Elizabeth Street, if he drove, it would take at least 40 minutes. Is this person flying? Can he get there in 10 minutes?

Another voice immediately sounded in the classroom: "Forget it! You are riding a motorcycle. What goods can your motorcycle ship?"

Schiller looked up and saw that the person speaking was a white girl with tattooed arms. He asked, "What is your name again?"

"I don't have a name. Most people here don't have any serious names. You can call me Rocket, the most powerful kind, whew—hahahaha..." The girl and the students around her laughed.

Schiller sighed. He continued to look at the names on that piece of paper. His gaze moved downward along his finger, and soon, he found a handwriting that was different.

The handwriting of most people on this piece of paper looked like ghost drawings. The English letters, the strokes were simple enough, but they were written like bugs crawling. However, among this pile of bug-like handwriting, there was a very special handwriting.

Not only were its letters written neatly, but there were also some traces of floral cursive. Schiller read out the name: "Oswald Cobblepot..."

He just wanted to look up to see who it was, and then suddenly froze. How could this name be so familiar?

It wouldn't be such a coincidence, right?

As a result, just after he finished reading this name, a short figure sitting in the corner stood up. He was pale, his eyes were sunken in his eye sockets, and he had a hook nose that didn't look very pleasing. He raised his hand and said, "It's me, teacher."

Schiller opened his mouth. He felt that the question he wanted to ask was a bit inappropriate. After all, the boy who raised his hand looked like he was only ten-something years old, probably younger than Bruce.

He couldn't go up and ask, will you become the famous villain Penguin in Cat Getan later?

That's right, the name Oswald Cobblepot, which sounds very special, shouldn't have anyone with the same name in the entire Cat Getan. If expected, this should be the Penguin in his youth stage.

Schiller looked at Cobblepot carefully. He found that except for being a bit short and having a gloomy temperament, he was also quite refined.

After all, you also have to look at what kind of monsters he is with. Most of the students sitting here have the same style as that Red Truck, wearing all kinds of bright jackets, with six or seven holes in their ears, most black people have dreadlocks, white people's hairstyles are also strange, full of tattoos, sitting on chairs like they have thorns on their butts, moving seven times in a minute. If it weren't for the gang bosses standing by the wall, they would have turned the sky upside down long ago.

In this environment, Cobblepot looks very normal, and even a bit refined.

He is wearing a suit that is obviously a bit old. This suit doesn't fit very well, and I don't know where it came from. He is wearing a plaid shirt inside, the collar is meticulously taken care of, and even the cufflinks are completely buttoned.

He has black hair, and his temples have also been trimmed. There are no messy holes on his face, and there are no obvious tattoos. Except for the hook nose that makes him look a bit gloomy, he looks quite good.

I don't know why, Schiller looked at such a Penguin, and he was even a bit moved. It turns out there are still normal children in the Living Hell.

That's right, compared to these second-generation gang members whose style is dancing in groups, Penguin can even be considered law-abiding.

Schiller recalled and found that this might also be normal. Originally in the comics, Penguin was a gang boss with aristocratic plots and liked to pretend to be elegant, often wearing a top hat, holding a cigar, and also having a luxuriously decorated restaurant. ===== CHAPTER 150 =====