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.

stuff and sending it here? Aren't you worried Kenneth will

her Coke. "Why do you talk so

racing models and placing them on the table. He could not help but blurt

after the cleaning. Can you

his foot. "Enough with

"Fine, fine, I'm the

two' Thomas, Leopold called him over to

others, feeling a bit guilty, pitched in to

not just replace the PC; he upgraded the entire setup-desk, chair, the

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

looked up, "Like them? For the sake that you're Vivienne's players, I'll throw in a few more. My place is full of them; his even more

and dropped a bombshell that sent chills

please, we still need this space. We've

remained silent, but Percival, sitting steadily, insisted, "No, I

please. I still have to

his computer, spoke slowly, "Those who don't understand E-sports don't belong in our training room. We don't need

nearly choked on

Kid, you couldn't be more naive." He

approached the computer, his gaze steady but icy, "Care for

with Percival challenging him in his own domain. "Let's do this. Lose, and

to clean your training room for a week if you

Bennett and the others wanted Aaron

his

sat to the side, eyes never

but she knew Aaron was no match

up with interest, even getting Bennett and the crew to

his best character

eye, Aaron's screen went dark, his character

stunned. How had