Chapter 93: Kavanagh Returns

Chapter 93: Chapter 93: Kavanagh Returns

The hall was packed with people, all other players here for the tournament.

Countless curious eyes fell on Renee Morgan.

Girl? Is she a medic?

As for the gun hanging on Renee, a lot of them had also been assigned rifles and submachine guns, so no one thought anything was off.

Renee had just sat down when a staff member escorted more people in. The middle-aged man hadn’t even looked at Renee’s ID card when he got handed a few more; he quickly told the newcomers to sit.

This competition had over a thousand players, split into two camps, with over five hundred on each side. The middle-aged man was running off his feet.

Renee sat in her seat, holding her cloth-wrapped long gun, quietly sizing up the players moving around her.

Honestly, once Renee realized these players were all top talents from around the world, she totally lost her confidence.

But after a look around, she still couldn’t figure anyone out. They all seemed ordinary enough—some even mingled and made friends in the crowd—which left her puzzled and confused.

The bigshots in the rumors always stayed hidden, mysterious, out of reach, sitting on the sidelines, looking down on the masses, only to reveal their real selves after being mocked, stunning everyone with just an alt account.

Had the bigshots changed their ways these days?

As Renee sized up others, they were sizing her up too.

This young girl was hugging her gun, looking all serious, her eyes a bit nervous and uneasy.

Their excited stares now turned questioning—a medic’s job wasn’t hard, more of a support role. Though not as safe as a hostage, it was still pretty safe. So why did she look this tense?

As Renee’s gaze darted around, suddenly the noisy hall buzzed with a subtle stir, everyone’s attention drawn to the door.

Renee followed the crowd’s gaze and just caught Jay Monroe’s handsome, comic-book main character eyes. She didn’t get all flustered like some girls—instead, her eyes lit up with surprise and she waved at him.

Jay was used to eyes on him. He greeted the middle-aged man, then walked straight over to Renee.

The girls in the livestream chat perked up instantly.

Oh, it’s Jay again.

[...]

Jay hadn’t expected to run into Renee here. And to end up in the same camp, too. He sat down next to her, giving her a half-smile: "What a coincidence."

Wasn’t it, though? They’d met in the base forest, and now in the tournament, still landed on the same side.

Renee rarely ran into anyone familiar—even if this guy wasn’t that close a friend. She looked at him eagerly: "Where are your teammates?"

Jay shrugged. "They got put in Team Red." Now the two of them were opponents.

Before Renee could say anything, Jay’s attention had already landed on the gun in her hands. It was wrapped in cloth, so you couldn’t see the model. He couldn’t help but ask, "What gun is that?"

Renee blurted, "High-power scoped sniper rifle."

Jay: "..."

Wow, she’s been practicing her tall tales in just a few days.

Jay lifted his own long gun and asked, "And you know what this one is?"

He’d already removed the cloth from his gun, letting everyone see its real make—which explained why he’d turned heads when he walked in.

Renee liked these big guns but didn’t know much about them. Even the gun she was hugging was still wrapped up. But Jay’s gun did look a little different from the others. She shook her head, "No idea, what is it?"

Jay snorted, shot her a grin, "Dummy, this is the high-power scoped sniper rifle."

Renee didn’t realize Jay was making fun of her. Eyes wide, she looked at him: "You’re a sniper, too?"

What do you mean, ’too’?

Jay hugged his long gun and glanced sideways at her, "What’s your role? Medic?"

Can’t blame Jay for assuming—there were barely any girls in these matches, and when there were, they usually played the medic role.

Still, seeing the long gun Renee was holding, it didn’t look like medic gear. Maybe that was a submachine gun—was she actually an assault player?

Only then did Renee realize Jay didn’t buy her sniper story. She started to wonder—did she really look like that much of a noob?

She remembered that day in the forest, where Jay and Hugh easily wiped Taylor, Sean, and the entire pro-level Mercenary Guild. They were the real deal.

Jay saw she wasn’t replying, figured he’d guessed right, and moved on: "All these guns use blanks, so no one will actually get hurt. But on the field, not everyone will use guns—you might see knives, fists, other weapons... You should be careful, you’re pretty small-framed."

Renee slumped her shoulders, nodding half-heartedly.

Jay noticed she was distracted and, worried she didn’t take it seriously, started explaining all the different roles on the field.

Sure enough, Renee perked up and started paying attention again.

Jay got in a good mood too, going into detail. On the field, there were a bunch of different identities, and snipers were one of the most important.

Snipers played a critical role in team battles—sometimes, when two teams were deadlocked, it was whoever had the more accurate, ruthless sniper who could break the tie and wipe out the enemy.

Then there were the more common assault players—these were the ones who led the charge in battles, using SMGs or hard-hitting rifles for close-quarters combat. They were basically the driving force of the fight.

Next were the scouts...

Renee listened intently. Each player had different tasks, and their gear and skills would change depending on their role.

While the two of them talked, time flew by. Before they knew it, the hall had filled up, the crowd was massive, and even the noise had died down.

The middle-aged man now had a pile of ID cards on his desk. Seeing that most people had arrived, he used the microphone to introduce himself.

Renee already knew from Jay that this guy was their Team Blue chief commander.

He started with both sides’ details: the Red side had 501 people with their commander, Team Blue had 501 counting him. Both sides were evenly matched, and the goal was to capture the enemy building as quickly as possible for a win.

Of course, if the enemy took over their base, then it’d be their win.

There was no time limit for the match, but the food supplies they got wouldn’t increase, so if no one wanted to starve, they’d better wrap it up fast and end the match quickly.

Once the chief commander saw no one was confused, it was time for roll call.

He grabbed his cards and called out names, having each person stand up for everyone to get a look at them.