The Million-Dollar Heart

Lennox just could not stand it any longer. He snatched the broom from Percival's grasp, and with a gentle tug, he swept the dust into the pan.

Crack! The broom head snapped off.

Percival furrowed his brow in annoyance. "That's the sixth time that's happened. Are your things always this flimsy?"

Lennox replied with a slight hesitation, "Is it possible you're just too strong and snapped it yourself?"

"It's this piece of junk that's the problem," Percival grumbled, casting a disdainful glance at the broom before turning to Quentin. "I had someone buy you a new racing car model and a desktop PC. They'll be delivered soon."

Quentin, for his part, was not too fussed. He looked around at the further disarray. "It's a knock-off anyway. Got it for ten bucks. But... Percival, maybe you should just stop cleaning."

Despite being older than Vivienne, Quentin and the others respected her technical expertise and would often follow Aaron's lead in calling her by her nickname. And since Percival was Vivienne's fiancé, they naturally called him by his first name.

Vivienne held back laughter, her delicate face turning a shade of red from the effort to conceal her laughter.

This must have been the first time Percival had been "rejected"!

Yet, he seemed filled with joy, and his mood visibly brightened.

Aaron's expression darkened slightly, though he said nothing, silently unplugging the computer to prevent the imminent explosion.

As he began to repair the broom, he asked Mark coldly, "What brings you here?"

Mark finally said, "I'm here to take you home."

"I'll be heading back tomorrow; we're celebrating here tonight. You go on ahead."

Mark knew Aaron well enough to understand his temperament. Today, Aaron had announced his retirement, which meant he would return to the Miller family fold tomorrow.

He had come to see if there was anything he could do to help, feeling the weight of his many debts to his son.

Before he could say anything else, the door to the training room burst open.

supplies are here. Why on earth are you buying all this stuff and sending it here? Aren't you worried

a sip of her Coke. "Why do you

carrying five limited-edition racing models and placing them on the table. He could not help but blurt out, "How did this place get so messy?

thought, "This is after the cleaning. Can you

Leopold a nudge with his foot. "Enough with the chatter. Change out the

muttered, "Fine, fine,

Leopold called him over to help

the others, feeling a bit guilty, pitched

PC; he upgraded the entire setup-desk, chair,

at the sight of the limited-edition racing models. "These... these are

the sake that you're Vivienne's players, I'll throw

dropped a bombshell that sent chills through the Hawk team, "For the next

we still need this space. We've got the new cleaning bots. They're fully automated. No need for manual labor. Let's not

sitting steadily, insisted, "No, I lost a

I still have to

don't understand E-sports don't belong

choked

you couldn't be

into a smirk as he approached the computer, his gaze steady but icy, "Care for a

particularly with Percival challenging him in his own domain. "Let's do

Vivienne to clean your training room for a week if you won. So, if you lose, I won't bother you again.

Bennett and the others

his eyes, "You're

to the side,

Percival play, but she knew Aaron was no

interest, even getting Bennett and the crew

his best character and went straight for

an eye, Aaron's screen went dark, his character

Hawk team was stunned.