Wendy Aldridge took her medicine, removed her makeup, applied ointment, and finally had a chance to get closer to the staff, casually observing the situation in the livestream room at the same time.
With golden sunlight beating down from above, Renee Morgan felt her head as heavy as a thousand pounds. But seeing the squad leader ahead, breath steady and pace even, quickly steadied her mind. She adjusted her breathing and followed closely behind him.
The two squad leaders were to her left and right, and seeing Renee always following, they secretly raised their brows: did this girl really not get any special training?
They knew that it was only through years of perseverance and hard training that they could march quickly under the scorching sun.
Fifteen minutes later, the two squad leaders and Renee Morgan arrived at the destination one after another.
The two squad leaders stood ramrod straight, their breathing calm, sweat streaming down their cheeks.
Renee stood off to the side, her breath just a bit uneven, but still managing not to gasp for air. Anyone with exercise experience knew that gasping wasn’t the correct way to breathe—someone from a Martial Arts Clan like Renee would know that even better.
The next to arrive were three male contestants and Lynn Miller.
Miles Yates held on for a while, but couldn’t last to the finish. He fainted halfway and was supported to the car to rest.
By the time the rest of the group reached the destination together, more than twenty minutes had passed.
The instructor calmly walked over to Renee Morgan.
Renee thought she’d done something wrong and quickly stood up straight, bracing herself for criticism.
The instructor spoke solemnly, "Renee Morgan, very impressive. You kept up."
The ’kept up’ meant she’d kept pace with the two squad leaders—not just arrived at the destination like Lynn and the others.
A teammate who doesn’t hold back the group is a qualified teammate.
Renee stood at attention and replied, "Reporting, instructor, that’s nothing impressive."
Her answer was honest, without a trace of pride—anyone could see how steady and unarrogant she was.
The instructor nodded and asked, "Do you usually have a habit of running long distances?"
Renee thought for a moment before answering, "My father is a Martial Arts Clan heir. Though he hasn’t taken on students for years, he’s always been very strict with me, so..."
The instructor understood. So she had a solid foundation—good, very good.
Wendy Aldridge got off the car, holding two bottles of mineral water. She gave one to Lynn Miller and one to Renee Morgan. Her makeup-free face looked pale and weak, and the pimples, inflamed by the harsh sun, stood out red and angry—startling to look at and even more pitiful.
She apologized sincerely: "Sorry, everyone, I held you back today. It won’t happen again."
Although she apologized to everyone, those soft, helpless eyes were fixed on Renee Morgan.
The chatroom immediately mellowed toward Wendy Aldridge, with many commenting:
[Wendy Aldridge is totally bare-faced now—her facial allergy looks severe. It hurts just to look at it.]
[Her allergy is so bad, but she still tried to get through the shoot. Even though the sun and heat overwhelmed her allergy, she didn’t complain but apologized to everyone. People keep flaming her—if you swapped places, could you manage it? Most people would break down if their face broke out like that, let alone as a female celeb.]
[...]
Renee looked at the bottle of water in her hand, then at Wendy’s pitiful, doe-like eyes, and smiled. "Can’t twist it open?"
With a crisp pop, she twisted the bottle cap off, shoved the water back into Wendy’s hands, and strode off: "You’re welcome."
Wendy stood there stunned, and before she could explain, Renee had already pulled out her own luggage, got out her canteen, and raised her head to take a big gulp, sweat trickling down her long neck.
Wendy clenched her fists in frustration. She couldn’t tell if Renee was doing it deliberately or what, but why did every response from Renee make her feel like she was punching cotton—totally useless?
The viewers in the livestream did not expect this kind of reversal either, and were all amazed by Renee’s logic:
[Hahaha, Wendy is stunned too. Am I really so frail I can’t even open a water bottle???]
[Morgan probably just saw how delicate Wendy looked, so she reacted like that.]
[Honestly, if some sickly-looking "white lotus" girl handed me a water bottle, I’d reflexively think she wanted me to open it for her. I’m a strong girl myself—haha, Morgan is a total straight-shooter, too.]
[...]
Wendy held onto the water bottle, but didn’t stay depressed for long and quickly followed behind Renee.
At 1.65 meters, she seemed extremely petite next to Renee. Someone in the chat even started shipping them as a pair.
If Renee knew they’d gone from being compared in opposition to being shipped as a CP, she’d probably be blown away by the internet’s imagination:
CP? There’s no way. The two of them are absolutely not on harmonious terms. Wendy getting close to her—she’s clearly looking for a chance to kill her!
But thanks to her dream’s warning, she was already on guard against Wendy, and would never let her succeed.
Led by the instructor, the group came to a giant, locked gate. There were no guards outside. The instructor stood at the gate, widened his eyes to the lock—it was a state-of-the-art iris recognition system.
Soon a cold, mechanical voice rang out: "Welcome back, old friend, to the secret training base."
As soon as the voice sounded, the iron door opened instantly, in a gesture of welcome.
The instructor waved them forward.
Everyone looked around curiously.
The chat’s sense of curiosity was no less than theirs, and they started speculating about the secret base:
[I heard international special forces selection happens in Merrick—could this really be a secret training base like that?]
[It’s definitely the Merrick training ground. That staff member at the checkpoint before had a Merrick accent.]
[If this really is the international training ground, this show is the peak of all variety shows.]
[This is so high-end, I have to keep following this show.]
Inside, it was very spacious. Occasionally, people from other countries passed by, but they didn’t pay much attention to the cast.
The instructor gathered them into a building, giving everyone some reassurance: "It’s very safe in here, don’t worry. Except for the brutal competition rules, no one will hurt you while you’re at the base."
Everyone looked at each other, suddenly a little nervous: "..."
"Instructor, what kind of competitions are here?" one of the male members asked, curious.
Mason Morgan remembered his profession was athlete, who’d won numerous medals in international events. His name was Gael Prescott.
The instructor said, "All kinds. Like shooting contests, boxing, fencing, wrestling—a variety of events."
"Also, there are both team events organized by groups and ring matches. Win, and you get a huge cash prize. That’s why a lot of mercenaries come to this place."
He didn’t hide a thing, just to let them know that while it really was safe here, it was also dangerous. As long as they followed the rules, no one would dare lay a finger on them.