Chapter 29: Admit Defeat?

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Admit Defeat?

They believe their bodies are worth a lot.

They weigh the pros and cons. If they don’t see tangible benefits, they hesitate, complain, and get depressed.

That’s exactly how they feel right now, just standing there.

Wasn’t it supposed to be just regular military training?

How did it turn into such overloaded, dangerous tasks? This is totally impossible for them to finish. The show crew and instructors arranged it like this—aren’t they just trying to make them embarrass themselves on camera?

"Coming!" Renee Morgan responded, catching up to Lynn Miller. She glanced back and saw Zara Chapman and the others standing, faces proud and dissatisfied, their eyes fixed on Miles Yates—he was frowning deeply, his face full of gloom. Clearly, he had zero confidence in completing this challenge.

She shouldn’t meddle.

But she remembered how, in the dream, both she and Miles Yates ended up miserably. Maybe fellow sufferers feel for each other, and it stirred up a fierce frustration inside her.

She didn’t want to end up like in the dream—even if it costs her life.

If Miles Yates doesn’t fight, he’ll lose everything anyway. Why not push forward?

"Today is just the second day of the group special training. It’s barely begun, and you’re already giving up?" Renee Morgan stopped, turned, her face cold and sharp as she looked toward the rest of the team.

Zara Chapman wanted to roll her eyes—Renee Morgan is such a meddler, can’t she see Zara’s trying to handle things? They’re all refusing to train; does the instructor and squad leader really plan to abandon them in the wild to starve? Obviously, that’s not going to happen.

On the other hand, if they don’t do this and instead obediently follow the training, given their stamina, there’s no way they’ll get the toolbox.

"Renee Morgan, you’ve got the skills for this brutal training. You don’t see it as a problem, but we really can’t do it." If it wasn’t for the cameras, Zara Chapman would’ve straight-up snapped at Renee—easy for her to talk when she’s not hurting.

If she thinks she’s so capable, just go do it already—don’t stand in the way.

Renee Morgan could see right through Zara Chapman’s game—she wanted to skip training yet still get the toolbox. Funny, isn’t it? This place, with cameras rolling, rules aren’t a joke. Once they’re set, they don’t repeal easily. Whining won’t help—just makes them suffer and look ridiculous.

"You all think you can’t do it?" Renee’s cold gaze shifted to Gael Prescott: "Gael, I remember you said something when you won your award. You’re the king, and the people of Z-country are kings of the world. That’s your driving force in international sports. You trained relentlessly to prove that. Now you want to admit defeat on Merrick’s Territory?"

"Kyle Beckett, when you first joined the military, you told the camera, ’A man never gives up.’ That’s why you’re here."

"..."

"Miles Yates." Renee’s sharp tone stayed steady, her throat rough but cutting: "I know you could inherit your family’s fortune, but you still chose the acting career you love. I get that passion—your fans get it, too. If you don’t want to look back, then push forward, even if you fall, bleed, smash your head—you won’t regret it."

Renee finished, didn’t look at them anymore, turned and left with Lynn Miller.

The squad leader was still figuring out how to hype them up—didn’t expect Renee Morgan’s words to fire him up instead.

The live-stream chat was equally fired up.

Everyone says sincerity is always the ultimate weapon. ℴ

Renee Morgan’s words, full of blood and tears, struck a nerve with them:

{Damn! None of them is as tough as Renee, a girl. So embarrassing.}

{Renee’s right. If you give up the moment you hit trouble, what’s the point of life? Facing challenges head-on—that’s a lifetime lesson.}

{Suddenly reminds me of freshman year. My grades plummeted, I was miserable, wanted to drop out daily. One afternoon, I got this idea: If I grit my teeth and hang on, maybe the hardship will shrink, bit by bit, tiny difficulties instead of huge ones. That belief carried me through high school, all the way to the college I wanted. Looking back, everything feels just right, perfectly satisfying.}

{Superfan of Renee! Ever since I got to know her on the show, I’m full of hope about life. Nothing can beat me! Victory, victory!}

{...}

Miles and Zara’s fans were just as concerned.

Miles’s fans know their idol’s stamina; it’ll be tough to finish this training. But they still desperately hope he’ll rise up, create a miracle. The power of idols is huge—and they expect a lot from him.

Zara’s fans know she’s not as tough as Renee. After all, Renee has a solid background.

But they also think Zara’s shortcuts aren’t worth it either. They support her charging forward, even if she fails—they won’t leave her.

Only a handful of immature, struggling netizens, full of resentment, curse the show, curse Renee for hogging the spotlight, say she’s forcing Zara and the others into impossible physical training—totally inhumane.

The director watched the live-stream numbers climbing and felt great. He didn’t care how much they cursed him. Backed by a big company, he’s got cover. Afraid of a few trolls? Please.

At the assembly field, Miles Yates was hit hard by Renee Morgan’s words, like an arrow to the chest. He’d been stumbling through life for years. Missing home but afraid to return, pursuing his beloved acting but scared his family looked down on him, cringed at seeing him on camera—always depressed, never truly at peace.

Renee was right. If you don’t want to look back, just push forward. Even if you smash your head and bleed, you can stand tall.

He even wondered—maybe his family’s never agreed with his acting career because he’s never firmly stood in the spotlight, telling them he belongs on the stage.

"Renee, Lynn, I’m coming." As Miles stood tall, his whole vibe changed. Since he joined the show, stood on camera, he should show what he’s got. Even if he doesn’t get the toolbox, he’ll lose with dignity.

Gael wasn’t scared of failing, it’s just that—being an athlete, he instinctively weighed the risk to his body. If he got injured, it would ruin his career; he’s always cautious.

But after hearing Renee’s words, he stopped caring about all that. Worst case, take breaks along the way, just try to get the toolbox.

Gael stepped up. Kyle followed next.

Only Zara, Wendy Aldridge, and Lionel Lincoln were left at the assembly.

Wendy saw Zara obviously couldn’t persuade the squad leader or director into giving them a shortcut to the toolbox. Pretending her skin hurt, she asked the squad leader for a mask.

The squad leader saw her allergy was still visible, so gave her a mask to wear.