Chapter 159: A Close Call

Chapter 159: Chapter 159: A Close Call

Renee Morgan decisively cut off communications, told the others to connect to the team leader and report the situation, then called to Dane and sprinted toward the car parked by the roadside with her sniper rifle in hand.

Dane, carrying a submachine gun, followed close behind, nearly leaping into the driver’s seat and starting the car. Once everyone else boarded, the vehicle shot up the winding mountain road at full speed.

They weren’t far from Jay Monroe’s reinforcements rendezvous point. The reinforcement team’s car had already driven some distance ahead, so Dane’s car quickly reached that stretch of mountain road lined with stone cliffs.

From a distance, they spotted someone in a red uniform up ahead, prompting the car to brake at the roadside.

Renee Morgan, Dane, and the group swiftly exited the car.

Upon stealthily approaching, they saw a car had rolled down the slope.

Team Red members were prying the car door open with military knives; others were smashing the door with stones.

Renee Morgan’s gaze searched the crowd, quickly locking onto a tall, thin man.

He carried an aura—something cold and obsessive, reminiscent of a solitary teenager.

The first time they’d met was in the base forest. Unlike Jay Monroe’s sociability, he rarely spoke; any glance he gave her was filled with scrutiny.

The second meeting was in Team Red’s building area. She and Dane set a trap, blew up their men; he chased her, and on the rooftop, slashed without hesitating, cutting her escape rope.

Cold, aloof, obsessive—yet bitterly extreme, wasting a decent face.

Dane wouldn’t suffer fools. Though he didn’t know Jay Monroe well, they were battle comrades, and besides, four of his own crew were also in that car.

"Renee Morgan, get ready to snipe." With that, Dane rushed forward with his submachine gun.

Team Red had already shattered the car window, their faces lit up in delight—until the ’bang bang bang’ of gunfire startled them.

Seeing who’d arrived, Team Red quickly scrambled up the bank, grabbing their weapons to fight back.

Hugh hadn’t joined in smashing the car. He was the first to hear the commotion; now he stood at the bottom of the slope, calm and composed, picking up his sniper rifle and taking aim at Dane.

His calm expression was tinged with a faint, mocking smile, as if ridiculing Dane’s overconfidence.

Sniper rifle loaded, aimed, trigger squeezed...

A short arrow burst forth, slamming into his gun barrel with a loud ’crack’.

The force was so strong that Hugh’s palm went numb from the shock.

He squeezed the trigger harder but heard no shot; instead, his sniper rifle emitted a harsh grinding sound.

Hugh felt a sense of dread. He ducked behind the car’s rear, leaned on the vehicle, and inspected his sniper rifle.

When he saw what was stuffed into the muzzle, his vision went dark; he nearly lost his balance.

The short arrow had actually lodged itself inside the muzzle, blocking it solid.

Clinging to a shred of hope, Hugh tried to pull the arrow out, but the deeper he tried, the farther it wedged inside. This kind of frustration, anger, and helplessness was utterly new to him.

His earpiece transmitted Team Blue’s score report, with one name especially grating.

"Team Blue assault, Dane scores one point. Total: forty-five points."

"Team Blue assault..."

"Team Red assault..."

"Team Red assault..."

Several totally unfamiliar names.

"Team Blue assault, Dane scores one point. Total: forty-six points."

"Team Blue sniper, Renee Morgan scores one point. Total: one hundred eighteen points."

"..."

"..."

Then a string of her name followed, before the score reporting finally stopped, announcing the final score.

"Team Blue sniper, Renee Morgan scores one point. Total: one hundred twenty-five points."

He brought twenty men, and she alone claimed eight kill points.

Hugh strained to control his temper, but his whole body trembled uncontrollably, the sniper rifle hanging by his side. He asked one teammate for a rifle. As soon as he took the weapon, the teammate beside him got shot before he could fire a round.

Hugh was unwilling to accept defeat, but he knew the rout was certain, so he led the five remaining survivors to escape into the mountain forest below.

Renee Morgan knew better than to chase desperate foes. Seeing them flee, she quickly told Dane and the others to smash open the car door.

The glass had already been broken; Dane used a stone to hammer at it a few times, soon destroying the entire pane, then reached inside and unlocked the car door.

After dragging everyone out of the car and up the bank, they checked all the wounded for injuries. Since the car was driving slowly on the mountain road, the crash wasn’t too violent, and everyone wore helmets. The injuries looked minor, with small wounds—mostly head knocks causing unconsciousness.

"Tch, everyone says medics aren’t important, so no one brings one, but at critical moments..." someone sighed.

Staring at the unconscious bodies scattered about or those with unclear awareness, someone worriedly suggested, "Should we jab them on the forehead? Once out of the match, the zone will send them for emergency aid."

The main squad led by the team commander did have two medics, but none were brought on the mission.

No one anticipated this outcome—a medic useless in peacetime turns vital in a crisis.

Dane’s brows were tightly knotted; he clearly disagreed with the approach.

Renee Morgan walked over to Jay Monroe, remembering his confident smile in earlier days; to exit the match like this was never what he wanted.

She pulled herself from her thoughts and spoke to the others, "Wake them up first. Whether they leave for treatment is their own call."

The others agreed, pulling out flasks and pouring water on their hands to pat the injured on the forehead.

Among them, Jay Monroe was hurt the worst—a bleeding gash on his forehead, blood seeping out but not enough to be life-threatening.

Renee Morgan carefully approached, seeking the wound on his forehead and pinching his philtrum with her thumb.

Jay Monroe struggled to open his heavy eyelids, meeting a pair of clear, bright eyes. Those eyes seemed to soothe him, letting his tense nerves relax.

At that moment, seeing Renee Morgan, Jay Monroe knew he’d made it through.

Hearing Jay Monroe insist on staying, Renee Morgan was hardly surprised.

The others’ injuries weren’t as serious—just momentarily knocked out or with a bump on the head, but none had dangerous bleeding, so they all chose to stay.

The group boarded the car Dane had driven and returned to camp.

The team leader was already waiting at the gate with two medics.

Jay Monroe got out and was helped inside to lay on the dry straw bed.

The medics brought their kit, took out tools and medicine, and treated Jay Monroe’s wound.

The base’s contestants were all elite, screened through countless rounds, and the medics were no exception. While their Combat Power was weaker than other soldiers, their medical skills were top-notch.