Chapter 153: Catching Up

Chapter 153: Chapter 153: Catching Up

Hart: "Isn’t this a bit much? Morgan’s a girl, after all. Look how pissed Monroe is getting."

Girls have thinner skin.

Boland clicked his tongue, glancing at Hart with contempt: "Look at you, so spineless. We’re looking for Morgan because of the match. You think the prize money is less than what that rich lady offered?"

Hart: "..." Look at you talking big—weren’t you just asking Monroe how much the rich lady paid?

...

Dane had a map of Team Red’s building area. Honestly, they’d all walked every route in that zone at least once. When they found out Hugh and his crew came back from that way, Renee and Dane picked a prime spot for an ambush.

It was a row of three five-story buildings. Left led to a deep lake, with a narrow path beside it; right was a maze of long streets and alleys. With Team Red’s few people, there was no way they’d flank them in such complex terrain.

Renee lay in wait as the sniper in the high rise, Dane camped out around the corner.

Hugh dialed in to the patrol squad stationed on the perimeter, wanting to pin down Renee’s location.

Too bad the building zone was way too big. Patrols weren’t moving in dense groups, and the ones who had been headshotted were already out—so all they could do was narrow down the area where Renee might pop up.

Hugh knew if they rushed over now, the place would already be cleared out. Still, to follow the commander’s orders, he had to make the trip.

He worried about more people getting headshotted, so he told the remaining patrols to tighten surveillance around Team Red Tower—so if someone got ambushed, they’d swarm over in no time.

In the hurry, nobody noticed the shadow lurking at the corner. Suddenly, it sprang out, brandishing a submachine gun and spraying bullets at them.

"Team Blue assault, Dane scores one point. Total: 42."

"..."

"Team Blue assault, Dane scores one point. Total: 44."

"Get down!" Hugh snapped coldly. He dodged, spotted the shadow holster the gun and bolt. Grabbing his sniper rifle, Hugh chased after him.

The rest scrambled behind him in pursuit.

Hugh the sniper, unlike Renee the "shortcut-taking insider," actually earned his role through ability. During the original evaluation, he was tested on sniper adaptability in all sorts of environments. Scores weren’t standardized, but Hugh pulled off the best—an A.

Chasing Dane, as soon as he entered Renee’s sniper range, Hugh sensed something was off. He looked up sharply—just as he spotted a hint of a black gun barrel poking out from the window above.

"Back up!" Hugh’s face turned grim, hoisting his sniper rifle and pointing upward.

The barrel didn’t move at all; she didn’t even show her head. The sniper rifle fired a round, and suddenly an announcement sounded.

"Team Blue sniper, Renee scores one point. Total: 113."

"..."

"..."

"Team Blue sniper, Renee scores one point. Total: 117."

Five shots in a row. As the group charged in, barely reacting to Hugh’s angry shout, one by one they got popped in the head.

Hugh rarely got this angry—watching his team get their brains blown out by Renee right in front of him sparked a furious blue haze across his face.

Even the viewers through their screens could feel his terrifying aura.

[Hugh’s Combat Power isn’t low; back in the base forest, he could KO The Boxing King. Morgan, run for your life.]

[Oh my god, he’s chasing after her...]

[What do we do, call the cops?]

The troll fans just couldn’t hold it in anymore, gloating: [Call the cops for what? Isn’t your Morgan supposed to be badass? Martial Arts Clan heiress, right?]

[Yeah, yeah, so tough—have her duel Hugh. Let’s see who wins.]

[Wow, nobody’s saying anything? Guess you finally remembered Morgan’s just a little trash. Back in the base forest, she almost got thrown out. Hugh showed mercy—if it were up to me, they should’ve broke her legs, see if she dares to bounce around now.]

These comments were savage, but Morgan’s fans couldn’t worry about it—their hearts were all pounding as Hugh ran faster.

Hugh, hauling his sniper rifle, charged straight up to the fourth floor.

Renee dashed from the fourth to the roof, then vaulted across to another building, whipped out a rope, and slid down from the top.

Hugh hit the rooftop as she was halfway down—three stories still to the ground.

Viewers’ breaths caught in their throats.

Plenty were already cheering that Renee was done for this time.

All Hugh had to do was cut the rope, and it’d be game over—heavy injury, straight out.

Hugh reached the rooftop, glanced around, quickly spotted the rope’s anchor. He grabbed the military knife at his waist and rushed toward it.

Getting out with the rope wasn’t just a matter of sliding down; while descending, Morgan’s left arm went behind her back, hands loose, letting her slide down and sit, gripping tight and keeping her core steady for the drop.

Morgan chose to go downhead first—it made it easier to spot any threats and react fast upon landing.

When Hugh appeared in her field of vision, Morgan was about one story up.

The sliding was quick, but the moment she was closer to the ground, she had to prep to land, which slowed her down.

Right as Hugh caught up.

Hugh was never one for mercy—he swung his military knife at the rope.

Knife up, knife down—*crack*.

Morgan was still about a story up—more than three meters, head first. Even if she didn’t die, she’d be paralyzed.

When Hugh swung the blade, a bunch of girls screamed instinctively and squeezed their eyes shut.

Hugh didn’t hesitate for a second when he moved.

Yet when the rope snapped, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of regret.

Morgan was a talent they needed. But she was blocking his way—he got his hands on her, he wasn’t holding back.

He wasn’t Jay Monroe—he wouldn’t get dazzled by some woman’s looks.

Hugh’s cold, ruthless face suddenly shifted—his eyes shook, waves surging in his gaze. That chilly, aloof face—like some snow lotus on a mountain—suddenly came alive, shocked and incredulous.

Hugh’s appearance spelled danger, and Morgan saw it coming. She couldn’t beat his knife to the rope, and the landing time wasn’t enough. Almost as he swung, she flipped head over heels, kicked her feet against the wall, and used the last bit of rope’s momentum to triple-jump off the wall. ’Crack’—the rope broke and she was just a meter from the ground. She did a big somersault and landed light as a feather.

The streaming viewers’ mouths dropped wide enough to fit an egg.

The ones who missed the last few seconds didn’t bother admiring Hugh’s changing expression—they scrambled to rewind the playback.