The Million-Dollar Heart novel Chapter 165

Class Eighteen burst into cheers, but the students from Class One didn't hang their heads in defeat. They just felt utterly embarrassed, especially the four boys who had participated in the game.

Tristan was completely livid, but what really stung was seeing Arabella run towards Percival, who was lounging on a bench with a bottle of water in her hand. "Percival, you must be tired after playing so long. Have a drink. My sister really neglected you."

Vivienne looked at Arabella, her eyes filled with amusement.

Percival didn't even bat an eye. With a casual flick of his foot, he kicked a basketball lying at his feet towards Arabella.

Arabella was suddenly tripped by the basketball and fell heavily to the ground, spilling the water all over herself.

"Arabella!" Tristan rushed over to help her up.

"Why do you always treat me like this?" Arabella asked Percival, clearly discontented.

"Just get rid of that ball. It's filthy." Percival said indifferently to Logan.

Logan immediately instructed his classmates to toss the ball into the trash, even going so far as to wrap it in a plastic bag in front of Arabella, clearly indicating that they too found it disgusting.

"Percival, you're going too far!" Tristan was about to defend Arabella.

"Why don't you start by apologizing to Coral and Oberon?!" Charlotte said, pointing at Tristan.

"Right! Apologize!" Class Eighteen was united in their anger. Their last gym class had been spoiled by two injuries, both caused by Tristan.

"I won't accept this!" Tristan refused to back down. "My team was weak. But I didn't lose!"

The four boys from Class One turned green. Tristan didn't care; he was too busy pointing at Percival and challenging him. "Let's have a one-on-one. Whoever scores more wins!"

Percival seemed to regard him as a clown.

"You're scared?" Tristan's eyes were bloodshot with madness. He had been humiliated too many times by Percival and Vivienne, and he was on the brink of losing it.

"Mr. Ellington, play him! Knock his teeth out! Let's see if he dares talk big afterwards!" The students of Class Eighteen, outraged at Tristan's arrogance, were egging Percival on.

Percival casually fixed his slightly ruffled shirt, then looked up and smirked. His smile was cold and shallow. "Let's play, then."

The appetizer was over.

It was time for the main course.

"Rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first, or toss-up?" Tristan asked.

Percival tossed the ball to Tristan. "No need. You start."

Tristan caught the ball, feeling a bit embarrassed. According to the rules he had learned from his years with the Brooks family, winning was all that mattered, regardless of the means or the lack of honor.

However, he didn't know that his nightmare was just beginning.

He tried to break through Percival's defense.

But he didn't even see how Percival made his move. Before he could react, the ball was in Percival's hands, and then it hit him straight in the face.

"Ah!" Tristan yelled and covered his face. "Percival, are you playing the player or the ball?"

"Both!" Percival replied indifferently, not bothering to hide his disdain for Tristan.

"Retreat?" Percival threw the ball back to him, his aura leaving no room for refusal. "It's too late! You have to play!"

Tristan was furious.

He looked at Percival, his eyes blazing with intense anger. Today, he was determined to make Percival kneel before him.

He continued his attacks, but just like before, he couldn't even see Percival's shadow before the ball was taken away. Then it hit him in the nose.

For some reason, even though Percival seemed to simply toss the ball, the force was tremendous.