Chapter 102: Want to Meet Dane?

Chapter 102: Chapter 102: Want to Meet Dane?

Livestream viewers: [...]

These two are something else—one dares to say it, the other dares to believe it.

Gotta say, up until now, everyone was still kinda on the fence about it.

What Jay Monroe just said was basically outing himself.

Damn, just chilling watching a show and we get to see a top dog from Freyos get exposed right here in the stream.

Jay Monroe’s words not only gave himself away but blew Dane’s cover too...

Looks like this assault for Team Blue isn’t just some random—if you saw the look on Jay’s face earlier, the guy’s got to have some serious background.

No wonder the guy just now had an SMG, went 1vN, went full beast mode, dropped 12 frags, knocked Jay Monroe off first place, now taking the lead for now.

Since the livestream mostly follows the fifteen contestants, one camera covering the whole match progress, earlier all they saw was a long-range shot—the image of a man spraying with his SMG, but never got to see what Dane actually looked like.

Now chat is going crazy, dying to see what Big Dane really looks like.

They’re spamming Renee Morgan’s name to death in the chat.

Out of the fifteen players, fourteen are already prisoners, sitting in the cell—only Renee Morgan can actually help them meet Dane.

Even the longtime anti-fans, who normally hate her, now hope that she can hang in there a bit longer.

[Hey, just got back from the overseas forums, I heard that Jay Monroe and Dane are equally powerful in Freyos. Dane’s even more popular, but I don’t know all the details—y’all know the vibes, right?]

[Heard those two have always been like kings who never meet in Freyos—never expected that they’d run into each other on the base match, must be both gunning for that huge prize money.]

[Wow! So even the top dogs need cash, huh.]

[Winning the base championship isn’t just about the money, you get fame, too. Even if these big names aren’t hurting for money, if you clinch the championship, your name blows up in Merrick... I mean, think about how many crews dream of joining the base and have zero ways in. If the big dogs make moves themselves, staking out new turf and expanding, why not?]

[Whatever boss moves they’re making, I ain’t tryna give them advice. I just wanna know if Dane is hot? ’Cause if he is, he’s my new husband, no cap.]

[...]You say you wouldn’t dare advise, but you’ve got no problem fantasizing, huh... delusional.

The mainland and overseas fans are all crowding into the same livestream room, but usually, their wavelength is totally different.

This time, weirdly enough, they’re actually all thinking the same thing.

Chat is full of shoutouts: Renee Morgan, we wanna see Dane! Just wanna see Dane. Where is Big Dane!

"Hang in there, Renee, just let us see Big Dane once, that’s all we ask."

[Jay Monroe’s in Team Blue, Dane’s in Team Blue, and most importantly, our girl Renee is Team Blue, too! Team Blue winning is basically a lock.]

[Bro, wake up... Renee is really there just to show us the big shots, right?]

[Lol, if Renee was even a little bit worse, she’d be locked up with the rest, and how would we ever get to see any of these bosses?]

[...]Why can’t I argue with that?

Renee Morgan and Jay Monroe kept their eyes trained on the edge of the jungle, and when night fell, they took turns resting.

The conditions now were way harsher than the base forest—at least back there, they had tents and some dry grass to sleep on.

Now it’s a live match, and you could be forced to relocate at any minute, so camping out with a tent is out—it’s just find a soft enough patch of ground and try to get some sleep.

Jay Monroe took the first shift, Renee Morgan the second.

Renee’s nap spot wasn’t far from Jay—just a patch of damp grass. She picked a place, then dug out a bottle of bug spray from a hidden pocket on her belt, spritzed every bit of exposed skin, then hugged her rifle and lay down.

The livestream camera caught it all crystal clear: in the dark, a flurry of bugs and mosquitoes swarming above, Renee hugging her sniper rifle, rolling over, curling herself tight and falling dead asleep.

Her face the whole time—totally calm. Forget the whole diva thing, this girl isn’t even as scared out here as your average woman. It’s like—putting up with this kind of hardship is nothing to her.

They say martial artists can really rough it—turns out, it’s true.

The viewers had to admit—Renee Morgan really isn’t like other female celebs.

If the image of a starlet is a perfectly made-up angel, born to be cherished and adored, Renee is the polar opposite—she’s got better looks and a killer body than all the rest, but she’s never treated herself like a dainty woman; honestly, it’s like she doesn’t even treat herself as human when she gets tough.

Guess that’s one reason this show blew up into a phenomenon.

Jay Monroe stood watch staring at the path, bored out of his mind, just about to turn and chat with Renee—only to find, huh? She’s actually knocked out already?

That afternoon, when he was sleepy and lying on the grass, it took him forever to doze off—grass poking him, bugs everywhere, impossible to fall asleep.

Yet would you look at that, Renee, a girl, is... actually pretty low maintenance?

Wait, is she a pig or something? Out like a light.

Jay Monroe roasted her in his mind, bored stiff as he watched the intersection.

When Renee Morgan woke up, Jay Monroe had already taken off with his sniper rifle, leaving her lying on the grass in the raging cold wind.

Renee had been dead asleep, suddenly jolted awake, her brain like it’d been filled with lead, sluggishly remembering what Jay Monroe just said.

Sounded like someone was coming. Probably worried about an ambush in the jungle, so they stopped right at the edge instead of charging in.

Jay Monroe had already reported the situation to the commander and taken off—totally his style—most likely heading straight for the edge, probably hoping to pick up some extra kills.

The commander had already sent in an assault unit as backup—she just needed to keep her eyes on the road.

Renee Morgan got her thoughts together, took her canteen for a rinse, then pulled a small handkerchief from a hidden belt pocket, dampened it and wiped her face clean.

She felt a lot more awake, picked up her sniper rifle, and headed over to her watch post, focusing on the route ahead.

She first looked toward the jungle’s edge—nothing but blackness, nervous wind, crickets and bugs—but not a single human figure in sight.

But if Jay Monroe said he saw someone, you know it’s legit.

Safe bet: they’re lying in wait at the edge, scoping the route before they push in deeper.

At times like this, for sure they’ll send scouts first, figure out how to break through the jungle.

Renee didn’t know how soon backup would arrive. The enemy camped at the edge could come through any second—she couldn’t just sit and wait.

With her sniper rifle clenched, Renee sprinted to several new positions, finally settling on the highest little hilltop nearby.

Once she nailed down the best ambush spot, Renee patched into the commander to confirm how soon backup would arrive.