The transfer went through, and I received a notification of the transaction—my balance was now $980,000,000. I smirked proudly. “Now, what do you have to say, Director?” I asked, turning to face him. He continued to stare at his phone, frozen in disbelief. I knew he had received the notification, but he wasn’t saying anything. He was just glaring at me and the phone, as if unable to process what had just happened.
The silence was deafening. Mikky and Diana rushed over to him, their expressions shifting from smug confidence to shock as they saw the same thing on his screen. I could tell they had just received the shock of their lives.
Everyone was waiting, holding their breath, for the director or Mikky to say something.
Mikky whispered something inaudible to the director, who quickly adjusted his demeanor.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the Joker of the Year at Kingsford University,” the director announced, trying to mask his shock with a forced laugh.
The crowd erupted in cheers. “He should be called Pauper of the Year!” someone shouted.
“‘Church rat’ sounds better!” another yelled.
“Why not ‘Loser of the Decade’?” came another taunt.
In the midst of their roar, Diana’s voice cut through, tinged with disbelief. “Oh, come on. It’s impossible! There’s no way he has that kind of money. It’s probably from someone else. This pauper is no better than a church rat—I know him well,” she said, her eyes betraying the uncertainty she was trying to hide.
Mikky turned to the director and sneered, "Don’t let Jordan fool you. Even if that money was from him, it doesn’t change anything. My father can donate ten times that amount without blinking. Jordan’s still a pauper compared to me."
Mr. Martins looked torn. He glanced between me and Mikky, his authority crumbling under the pressure. "Well, it’s… a large amount, but…"
"But nothing!" Mikky cut in, stepping in front of me and the director. "You heard what we said. He can’t compare to my family. So, let’s finish this."
They argued while the crowd cheered, but I could hear them clearly. I shook my head in disbelief at the kind of people they were. Mikky smirked at me, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "Go ahead, Jordan. Fulfill your promise. Strip, like you said you would."
“Yes, go ahead, Strip!” Diana yelled.
I couldn’t believe it. Even after I had done everything they asked, they were still demanding I pay a price that was beyond fairness, beyond dignity.
"Are you serious?" I chuckled with so much sarcasm in me. I knew they had received the alert but didn’t want to admit I had such an amount at my fingertips.
With suppressed rage, I yelled. "I transferred the money. You all saw it. What more do you want?"
Mikky crossed his arms and leaned in closer. "We want you to follow through on your promise. You lose, you strip. Simple, or your cleanser grandmother does her job on my shoes with her tongue."
I stared at them both, disbelief and fury crashing inside me. "You people have no shame. None of you," I spat, my voice low and dangerous.
Mikky rushed to the director, raising his hand as he chanted, "Strip him!"
"Yes, strip him!" Diana joined in, and within seconds, everyone was chanting the same thing.
"Strip him!"
"Strip him!!"
The director commanded the guards to grab me. Their hold tightened as I struggled, trying to wriggle free. Mr. Martins, the director, was practically gloating, addressing the crowd with a smug expression.
"This is how nuisances are treated here at Kingsford University," he announced, his voice dripping with condescension. "They will be disgraced publicly before being expelled."
He gestured for Mikky to come forward, giving him the green light to humiliate me. Mikky's smirk was victorious as he approached, ready to strip me of what little dignity I had left. I fought harder, determined not to let him or anyone else break me. He might have won this battle, but I vowed then and there that I would win the war. I would use everything in my power to ruin him and his family.
Desperately, I scanned the crowd, searching for my grandmother and Josh. I needed to signal him to take her home, away from this madness. But it was impossible to spot them in the mass of faces.
“Stop it!!”
I heard a thunderous thud. Reflexively, I turned toward the sound, my eyes widening in shock.
It’s the principal- Mr Dawson.
His hand had come down sharply across the director’s face.
The slap echoed through the courtyard like a gunshot, freezing everyone in place.
The director stumbled backward, stunned, his hand flying to his cheek. "S-Sir?" he stammered, utterly confused.
But what happened next shocked everyone. The principal turned toward me with respect. Without hesitation, he bowed deeply, leaving the entire crowd in stunned silence.
"I apologize for the disgraceful behavior you’ve been subjected to here."
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