Chapter 5

At Gracefield High School, there were around 1,600 senior students, and Jonathan's exam scores always placed him somewhere after the 1,000th rank. Class 1 was the most elite class in the entire grade, with over 30 students. However, Jonathan was ranked dead last, dragging down the entire class's average score. Even the student ranked second last in Class 1 still hovered around the 50th spot in the school's overall rankings. Only Jonathan stood out—he consistently scored absurdly low, well beyond the 1000th place. Because of this, everyone firmly believed that Jonathan got into the top-performing class only because the Campbells pulled some strings and used their connections. He was much unlike Frederick, who earned his spot through genuine talent. Since the start of high school, Frederick had consistently held the top rank in the entire school, with Stella firmly in second place. The top two positions in the entire school had always belonged to Frederick and Stella, with no surprises ever interrupting their reign. The physics competition was a school event, and as Gracefield High had been a prestigious institution for over 100 years, this competition had been held for over 60 years. The physics department's teachers were known for crafting particularly challenging and twisted problems. The level of difficulty surpassed that of the usual midterm and final exams by a huge margin. There were no multiple-choice questions, no fill-in-the-blanks—just pure calculation and experimental analysis problems. Luck didn't play a part at all in the physics competition. If Jonathan entered the competition with his abysmal scores, it wouldn't be surprising at all if he ended up with a zero. At this thought, Owen laughed loudly. "Jonathan, entering this competition would make you nothing more than a clown. Dropping out early is the wisest move you could make." "Are you done?" Jonathan lazily stood up, hands in his pockets, walking toward the crew cut boy. "If you're still running your mouth, why don't you go lick a toilet?" Owen's face turned an unhealthy shade of red. "What did you say? Who should lick a toilet?" Jonathan's expression was cold as he responded, "Can't understand simple words? How pathetic." Owen's anger flared. He rolled up his sleeves and swung a punch at Jonathan's face. However, Jonathan reacted faster. He easily sidestepped the punch and, with lightning speed, grabbed Owen by his collar, jerking his body forward. Owen's face instantly filled with panic. Just when he thought he was about to crash face-first into the floor, Jonathan suddenly let go and slammed his palm into the side of the boy's head. Jonathan's action twisted Owen's neck to the left, and his head collided with the desk. The force of the impact left Owen dazed, stars flashing before his eyes, his ears ringing. One side of his head was pressed against the table, with Jonathan's powerful hand holding him in place. Owen gritted his teeth, feeling as if his skull might crack under the pressure. He growled, "Jonathan, let go of me, or—" Jonathan smirked; there was a hint of amusement on his face. He raised Owen's head, then smashed it against the desk repeatedly. Owen's forehead split open, blood trickling down. His previous arrogance evaporated, replaced by desperate cries for mercy. "Jonathan, I swear I'll never mess with you again! Please let me go!" The surrounding students gasped in shock, none daring to mock Jonathan again. The classroom was eerily quiet. None of them knew how much time had passed before Jonathan finally felt satisfied and released Owen. Having regained his freedom, Owen shouted angrily, "Jonathan, you bullied me in front of everyone! I'm going to the principal! Just wait—you'll be expelled soon!" Jonathan leaned back against his seat with a lazy grin on his face. The night before, he had reviewed the school's rules and regulations. He had committed them all to memory. Looked like it would be coming in handy now. He slowly said, "School Rule 102: Verbal abuse of a fellow student results in a major demerit, a call to your parents, and a punishment of writing a 10,000-word apology letter. "School Rule 576: Any bad behavior of ridiculing others or causing mental harm to others results in a major demerit, a call to your parents, and two months of cleaning the toilets. "School Rule 13: If a student receives two major demerits, the school has the right to expel them." Jonathan raised an eyebrow and said, "Go ahead and tell on me if you want. At worst, we'll both go down together." Owen stood there, stunned, as he tried to process what Jonathan had said. What the hell? He scrambled to open his desk drawer and pulled out a green "Code of Conduct" booklet. Flipping through the pages, he quickly located the rules Jonathan had mentioned. As he read, his heart sank. The rules were exactly as Jonathan had stated. Shit! Had he just been beaten for nothing? Owen had been secretly hopeful that he could finally get Jonathan kicked out of Gracefield High, but now Jonathan had turned the tables on him. He couldn't curse Jonathan or beat him. And now, he couldn't even tell on Jonathan without facing the consequences! Owen was livid! Clutching his bleeding head, he tried to make his way to the school nurse's office. Just then, the bell signaling the start of class rang. Their homeroom teacher, Avery Osborne, entered with a stack of papers. When she saw Owen's head dripping with blood, she was shocked. "Owen, what happened to you? Did someone hit you?" Owen's head was spinning with rage, but he couldn't tell the truth. "No… I just… I accidentally fell down the stairs and hit my head." The other students in class had also mocked and insulted Jonathan. They didn't want their parents to be called, so no one made a sound. Everyone remained quiet. "Stella, you're the class president. Take him to the school nurse. If it's serious, head to the hospital," Avery finally said. "Okay, Ms. Osborne." Stella frowned and stood up, her eyes still wide from what she had just witnessed. She had seen the entire confrontation between Jonathan and Owen firsthand. To be honest, she was stunned. Jonathan had managed to turn the tables and use a loophole in the rules to openly beat Owen. And now, he was walking away without a scratch. It was almost impressive how cunning Jonathan had been. Stella shot him a disapproving glance before helping Owen, who was crying in pain, out of the classroom. Avery placed a thick stack of test papers on the desk, her face lighting up with a smile. "We have a transfer student joining us." She waved toward the door. "Come on in." A beautiful girl wearing the school's uniform walked into the room. Her features were delicate and well-defined, and her hair was tied up in a cute bun. She looked both sweet and adorable. Her face was free of makeup and was naturally radiant. She had bright eyes, fair and flawless skin, and a warm, inviting smile that exuded a graceful femininity. The boys in the class stared at her, completely mesmerized. She was gorgeous! Their protective instincts surged. The girl was even more beautiful than Stella, the campus belle and Satbury's most beautiful woman! When has Satbury ever had someone like this? They didn't even know she existed! The girl walked up to the blackboard and wrote her name in elegant cursive—Michelle Johnston. It wasn't just the boys who were stunned. The girls in the class were equally captivated. Michelle's charm was undeniable. She had that perfect mix of beauty and innocence, combined with a subtle allure that was simply mesmerizing. "Michelle, sit next to Jonathan. There's an empty seat beside him," Avery said, remembering the instructions from Levi. Jonathan had been focused on his work, but he slowly looked up at the sound of his name being called. His eyes met Michelle's across the room, which was unexpectedly lingering on him. What? Jonathan was confused. Why did the factory manager's daughter transfer to his class?