Chapter 30: An Antidote for Defiance

Chapter 30: Chapter 30: An Antidote for Defiance

Wendy Aldridge put on her gear and ran off, leaving only Zara Chapman and Lionel Lincoln at the scene.

Lionel Lincoln started out as a singing and dancing idol; when he debuted, he was neither hot nor cold. Although he played several supporting roles, before joining the variety show, he was pretty much a nobody in the entertainment circle. His type closely resembled the kind of "little puppy" entertainers that have become popular with older female fans in recent years.

Lionel is a huge fan of Zara. More than half the reason he joined the show was because Zara was on it.

The squad leader, seeing that neither Lionel nor Zara was willing to move, spoke coldly: "Lionel Lincoln, Zara Chapman, I’ve said before, you can quit if you can’t keep going, but you absolutely can’t behave like deserters. Right now, you two are acting like deserters."

Zara opened her mouth, wanting to argue: "We..."

"Did I let you speak?" The squad leader looked at her coolly.

Zara’s face turned red instantly.

The squad leader glanced at them, then continued: "Will you two take your punishment and do fifty push-ups, then continue training? Or will you do fifty push-ups and deduct twenty points?"

He mentioned the points—the scoring system the instructors talked about before—which affects the final ranking and is tied to the S+ movie leading actress role specially tailored for Zara, the one she’s been dying to get.

The temptation was enormous. Anyone with a bit of ambition couldn’t resist, let alone Zara, who’s a total go-getter.

She didn’t want to comply with the training simply because she thought it unnecessary, not because she didn’t want to win or get a high score.

"Squad leader, reporting in: it’s not that I refuse to cooperate, I just think you could arrange some tasks that we can actually complete and reach the standard. Otherwise, there’s no way we could get the toolkits, so what’s the point in making things hard for us?" Zara’s face was full of defiance.

The squad leader replied coldly: "This is special training; the whole point is to push your physical limits. If you don’t think you can do it, you can admit defeat."

"If I’m exhausted and can’t even possibly finish the task, what’s the use?" Zara snapped back.

Squad leader: "Zara Chapman, when you entered the unit, did we or did we not tell you the rules? Orders must be obeyed, absolute compliance. What kind of attitude is that now?"

Zara’s heart was pounding; her face alternated between pale and green, and for the first time, she didn’t dare say a word.

The squad leader’s face was so intimidating that everyone in the live-stream chat held their breath, shaking their heads and sighing. The rules were set; how could there be special exceptions? That would be a joke.

Zara really can’t read the room, does she? She even fantasizes about changing the rules and getting the toolkit without training.

How could there be any fairness left if that happened?

The viewers watched the Best Actress get scolded, then saw her, red-eyed, struggle through fifty barely standard push-ups, miserably continuing training. It felt incredibly satisfying.

They say the military breaks the unruly and tames the wild ones—so true.

Sometimes, treating yourself as a big deal gets you nowhere. Only true strength earns respect, especially in the military.

For a moment, Zara dominated the main camera, and with the production team pushing things backstage, buying a few trending hashtags, her popularity soared, even showing signs of catching up with Renee Morgan.

Even if it was all negative attention, people had mixed feelings about her. But hype is hype, good or bad.

A lot of new viewers entering the live-stream now were just here to watch the Best Actress get scolded.

After doing fifty push-ups, Zara and Lionel Lincoln ran another kilometer to the shooting range, and started on another set of push-ups...

The instructor at the shooting range was strict, allowing no slacking off, and watched Zara and Lionel complete all fifty push-ups.

For a while, Zara was wailing non-stop, sweat and tears streaming down her face—there wasn’t a shred of Best Actress aura left.

At that moment, the main camera switched away, cutting instead to a shot with everyone in frame.

This time the camera focused on the shooting range, where Team One had already arrived, finished their push-ups, and run another kilometer. Now all stood at the shooting line, each with a big weapon in front of them, a dedicated shooting instructor by their side. With live ammo, strict controls and instructor presence were essential to prevent accidents.

The viewers had never seen anything like this in a live-stream and almost felt they’d been transported to wartime chaos, with flames of war all around.

The cold machinery, even through the screen, gave off the heavy sense of real guns and live ammunition.

The eight Team One members—most people guessed they were from Merrick’s professional Mercenary Guild.

Now was the moment to find out for sure.

The viewers clung to the stream, trying to guess: Which one is the sharpshooter? Or are they all sharpshooters?

As excited as the viewers were, the scene was just as intense: the eight team members sprawled before their weapons, sweating so much they could barely keep their eyes open.

The instructor finished explaining the steps, then stepped aside.

As soon as the whistle blew, a sentence rang out: "Take the safety off, fire at will."

With all the gunfire, people in the live-stream felt like their heads were splitting. Spy dramas on TV always get post-processed, but this live footage was raw, and the earsplitting blasts made everyone shudder.

After half an hour of shooting practice, the guns’ recoil was intense; some couldn’t take it anymore, clutching their shoulders for a break.

Half an hour later, they cleared out for the next stage of training, and Team Two entered the range.

Team Two had six members—everyone was there except Zara and Lionel.

Unlike those shooting club practices with visors, gloves, and gear, now they had to lie on the ground, gripping the heavy weapon under the blazing sun, firing live rounds for half an hour. This was a way harder test of stamina than a long-distance run in the heat.

The instructor knelt down to correct anyone whose posture was wrong, right away.

Renee Morgan was holding this kind of thing for the first time, but she wasn’t nervous; on the contrary, she looked a bit exhilarated.

As a kid, she was kind of a tomboy. Her father was strict, so she learned how to handle all sorts of swords and knives. Naturally, that included archery and crossbows.

She wondered which was harder to control—this heavy weapon, or a crossbow?

Renee lay down in front of the heavy weapon, a military green helmet on her head, finger on the trigger, staring through the scope with one eye closed. Her radiant face had gone red from the sun, sweat pouring down, but her sharp aura and calm, focused posture were so cinematic that people held their breath in anticipation.

The viewers were amazed:

[Renee Morgan is probably just one of those people born for the camera. You could take any screenshot from these seconds and it would compete with any award-winning art film.]

[Morgan is so badass. She may not be all-powerful, but that aura of hers can absolutely kill.]

[You can tell she’s a trained performer. Doesn’t matter how many rings she hits, what matters is that her pose is picture-perfect. (Ultimate posing skills!)]

[People say the military tames the rebellious, but someone with Renee Morgan’s competitive drive isn’t crushed—she’s admired by the instructors. No wonder her explosive popularity feels well-deserved.]

[...]