Chapter 150: Civilization

The people on both sides rushed forward to help, trying to lift the vines higher, pull them over the car roof, and let the vehicle pass smoothly.

Others held up their shields or gripped their guns, ready for any enemy troops that might suddenly jump out.

Dane and his crew, who’d already sneaked back through the jungle, squatted down again at the bottom of the slope, using the thicket as cover, watching Team Red make fools of themselves with cold amusement.

Bama, after listening to Dane’s rant, couldn’t help casting him a glance, as if to say: You sure didn’t think this way yesterday.

“Smack!” Dane slapped him on the forehead, reminding him to reorganize his facial expression.

“…”

The Team Red members pulled the vines higher, but just as they were about to clear the car roof, the vines seemed to reach their limit. No matter how hard they yanked, they wouldn’t go any higher. The two branches tied to the sides started to split, shaking precariously, and nobody knew if they’d pulled them apart—or if…

“Just cut them off, doesn’t look like a big deal.” The guy who’s been suggesting they remove the vines had run out of patience. He pulled out a military knife and sliced at the vines.

The vines overhead snapped with a swing of the knife, the branches on both sides cracked with a loud ‘pop’, and dropped onto the car roof.

The Team Red players jumped, but luckily no one got hurt. Before they could even finish sighing in relief, a sudden rain of arrows came raining down from above.

The origin of the arrow storm was the very tree the vines were tied to. Arrows shot down from their canopy, and even though many held shields, several still got caught in the crossfire.

“Ah!” Not like being hit by a blank round; this pain was blunt, like getting slammed by a rock. The short arrows punched into skin—a real, stinging pain.

The uninjured teammates scrambled to hold up their shields and protect their sides, but didn’t dare raise them over their heads; covering their helmets would trigger a penalty.

The arrows had just hit shoulder height. They couldn’t raise their shields above their heads, so their shoulders were totally exposed.

Team Blue definitely did that on purpose…

“Let’s go!” Dane was the first to spring up. This time, Team Red had either shielded up, or had arrow wounds in their shoulders; nobody was armed.

They jumped into the middle of the road, holding their guns out with both hands, acting like absolute punks.

Livestream viewers: […]They know it’s a competition, but if you didn’t…

The way they’re showing off now, if this happened inland, it’d all be evidence in court, ready to send themselves to jail.

Team Red stood there and got shot—three helmet hits meant death. They tried to turn their heads smartly, only for a ‘bang bang’—a few gunshots.

Died even faster.

“Team Blue sniper Renee Morgan scores one point, total score 108.”

“Team Blue sniper Renee Morgan scores one point, total score 109.”

Turning around was useless, couldn’t face forward either… so someone just bowed their head, and to avoid getting knocked out from a helmet hit, started tumbling and rolling around clutching their heads—a total mess.

This was Team Blue’s usual shtick; Team Red always looked down on this, or maybe just never had the chance. Usually, they just got pissed off to death by Team Blue.

Now it was Team Red’s turn to roll around in a wild tantrum.

Dane didn’t care for mercy; he slung his gun back around his neck, whipped out his military knife and charged in.

Boland and the others followed, a whole group pinned down the Team Red players, stabbing wildly with their military knives.

Team Red players weren’t exactly pushovers. How could they just offer their heads for stabbing? They drew their knives, started punching and kicking back.

The real fight was only just starting.

“Ah!! You’re stabbing the helmet, stab the helmet, why the hell are you stabbing my face, are you blind?”

“Let go, let go, you’re choking me to death, do we have a grudge, damn—cough cough cough…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, why are you going for the balls, can’t you just stab the helmet? Over here, here, I’m telling you if you stab right here, you can let go, okay?”

About to die…

Pinned to the ground, Team Red players were nearly begging for mercy. They’d seriously underestimated Team Blue’s shamelessness—wasn’t this supposed to be a civil match, how’d it come to ball-grabbing?

Winning or losing didn’t matter—the only thing was, they still wanted to stay men.

The farce ended quickly; Team Red’s customs squad wiped out.

The drivers and medics getting off the car all got their helmets stabbed.

The match progress in the live stream: the leaderboard had reshuffled completely.

After Kennedy got knocked out, after Louis got knocked out, now the top four players were three from Team Blue, one from Team Red.

First place: Team Blue sniper Renee Morgan, score 109.

Second place: Team Red sniper Hugh, score 80.

Third place: Team Blue sniper Jay Monroe, score 42.

Fourth place: Team Blue assault Dane, score 41.

Having smoothly wiped out Team Red’s customs squad, Dane and Boland gave each other high fives, Bama ran down from his spot.

Renee Morgan was sweating bullets in the grass, wiped grass bits off the sniper rifle, made sure it was spotless, and finally relaxed, getting up.

Dane took out his communicator, wanting to brag about his win to Jay Monroe, when suddenly a headshot score sounded in his earpiece.

“Bang.”

“Team Red assault…”

It was a Red team assault soldier they didn’t know. Dane turned to share a look with the just-standing Renee Morgan.

Both their faces fell.

If it had been last night, a headshot score wouldn’t have surprised them—Jay Monroe and his crew were attacking Team Red Tower, after all—but this morning, Team Blue hadn’t made any moves. So how…

“Could just be a coincidence, maybe one of ours was out solo and got jumped by a Red patrol…” Bama tried to reassure instinctively.

But before anyone else could speak up, the earpiece blasted with burst after burst of gunshots.

Dane listened to a string of score announcements—all Red team assault soldier names—followed by a long string of Hugh’s scores; in just a couple minutes, he racked up ten headshot points.

Dane quickly used his communicator to reach out to Jay Monroe.

A ‘tick’—connection went through, but Jay Monroe didn’t have time for chit-chat.

Dane looked at Renee Morgan, brow furrowed: “How did they run into each other?”

He and Jay Monroe always kept in touch, telling each other about their maneuvers.

If Team Blue wasn’t attacking Team Red Tower, then Team Red… Team Red must’ve found Team Blue’s camp?

The camp was in a secluded spot; with smaller groups, escape was easy. But now the whole squad was there.

Renee glanced at the car behind them and said, “Let’s get in the car first, then talk.”

Dane was the first to circle around and climb into the driver’s seat.

Bama ran to the other side, opened up the passenger door, and shouted, “Morgan, take the front.”

Renee Morgan thanked him, climbed in, and with the AC on, everyone felt alive again—sighs of relief all around.

Renee Morgan pulled out her communicator, dialed up Team Blue’s commander. She wasn’t sure about Jay Monroe’s situation, but whatever happened, they’d definitely report to the commander.

The Team Blue commander had just been about to call them, and didn’t expect Morgan’s feed to come through first.