The Million-Dollar Heart Novel Episode
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.

Tristan felt like his nose was about to break.

After a dozen rounds, Tristan was almost falling apart. Percival didn't even bother to spare him a glance. "Continue!"

"You... played... dirty!" Tristan gritted his teeth, enduring the pain all over his body. "I'll sue you for intentional injury! I need a medical examination!" Percival kicked Tristan's remaining leg, and he fell to his knees. "Do you surrender?"

Tristan was in so much pain that he almost fainted. He had nothing to say. "Surrender?" Percival threw the ball at him, his tone commanding. "Get up and play!"

Tristan was furious.

He glared at Percival with eyes filled with fire. "I won't let you get away with this!"

Percival stepped on his leg, adding a bit more pressure. "Surrender?"

Crack!

It was the sound of his bone breaking.

"Ah!" Tristan held his leg, howling in pain. "My leg!"

"Tristan!" Arabella was startled and rushed over. "What happened?"

As soon as she came over, Percival kicked Tristan over and stepped on his foot. "Last chance. Surrender?"

"I surrender! I surrender!" Tristan was in so much pain that he was about to pass out. He didn't want to surrender, but he had no choice.

Percival was a devil. If he didn't surrender, he would have his leg truly broken.

Percival stepped off him, glanced at him indifferently, and said, "Kneel! Apologize!"

With no other choice, Tristan knelt on the ground. "I'm sorry. I was wrong."

"Who are you apologizing to?" Percival asked.

"I'm sorry, Coral. I'm sorry, Vivienne. I shouldn't have hit you with the ball."

Coral and Oberon were rushed to the medical wing, and Percival addressed the students of Class Eighteen. "Capture this on video for Coral and Oberon."

"Sure thing!"

The students of Class Eighteen excitedly pulled out their smartphones.

After the video was taken, Tristan heaved a sigh of relief and tried to stand, only for Percival to hurl the basketball at him again. The impact left Tristan reeling, and he collapsed, unconscious.

"Tristan!" Arabella screamed and rushed in. Instead of confronting Percival, she turned to Vivienne. "Sis, you've gone too far. My dad won't let this slide!"

Vivienne barely suppressed a laugh at what she considered a ridiculous threat. Without even a glance at Arabella, she and Percival led the students of Class Eighteen out.

Class One's students had lost dignity that day. Nobody stood up for Tristan. They all followed Class Eighteen, leaving the basketball court empty except for the unconscious Tristan and the resentful Arabella.

The news of Tristan's injury spread like wildfire, prompting a flurry of complaints from parents. The board had no choice but to agree to Lysander expelling him.

Even without the expulsion, Tristan wouldn't have been able to attend school, as his last match with Percival had left him bedridden.

He demanded a medical examination, and Arabella arranged it, but it turned up nothing.

Tristan couldn't comprehend why the parts of his body that Percival had hit hurt so much and the hospital couldn't detect any injuries. Only Vivienne knew the answer. Percival had used a secret technique learned from her mother, something like a hidden force strike.

On the surface, his skin and muscles showed no sign of injury, but the strike had damaged his nerves. The X-rays didn't show anything immediately. It would take at least two weeks for the microfractures in the bones to gradually emerge. If not treated promptly, Tristan could be permanently disabled.

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