Chapter 165: What Identity

Chapter 165: Chapter 165: What Identity

Except for the director’s team and the instructors, nobody here has their phone—everyone else’s phones haven’t been returned yet. When they entered the military district, their phones were confiscated and left back there.

Up till now, no one knows just how much of a storm this reality show has stirred up. Naturally, they can’t understand why these people are so fixated on Renee Morgan.

The director’s team knows exactly how explosive the show is, but for the moment, nobody has thought in that direction.

When the other side spat out Renee Morgan’s name, everyone looked utterly baffled.

Renee Morgan eyed the weapons in their hands, unable to understand why someone would be out for revenge against her, her mind racing for a plan...

Suddenly, a pair of hands pressed hard against her back. She was standing beside Lynn Miller and Kyle Beckett, unable to twist away. Her back was shoved, and she stumbled forward—luckily she was firmly planted, or she’d have ended up face-first on the floor.

Zara Chapman pushed her out and then rapidly addressed the group in English, her shrill voice showing uncontrolled twisted excitement: "Yes, that’s right, she’s Renee Morgan. We have nothing to do with her. Please, I’m begging you, let us go!"

"Zara, what are you doing..." Miles Yates’ face instantly changed, and he rushed out to shield Renee Morgan, panic in his eyes but refusing to back down. He raised his palms, speaking with trembling lips: "Everyone, let’s talk about this. Whatever it is, we can handle it peacefully. Please don’t resort to violence..."

His voice caught in his throat as the gun pressed against his forehead. The other man barked out harshly: "Shut up. Move!"

This act made even the instructor’s face go pale; the director’s team barely dared to breathe.

Zara wore a cold sneer, cursing inwardly that he deserved it. Who asked him to stand up for that troublemaker?

The gun to his forehead brought a trace of pain; Miles Yates’ face turned white, watching their fingers fondle the trigger, he took a hesitant step back.

Miles Yates moved hesitantly, and the other man impatiently raised his arm, his elbow rudely shoving him aside, then fixed his gaze back on Renee Morgan. That look was strange—not as fierce as the one he gave Miles Yates, nor as icy as the one for the others—it was full of scrutiny, calculation, and appraisal.

Zara’s schadenfreude couldn’t be hidden, no matter what.

Her original plan for returning to the country was to use her connections to blacklist Renee Morgan, letting her know that in this industry she’s just a weed—overreaching, offending the wrong people? Forget about making it here.

She didn’t expect that before she could act, someone else would ’teach Renee Morgan a lesson’ for her.

As Zara applauded inwardly, wishing someone would punch Renee Morgan and knock out her teeth, that person’s gaze suddenly flashed over to her.

Zara instantly sensed the danger, thinking her earlier action had drawn their attention. She stealthily took a step back, trying to hide behind the crowd.

Their movement was faster—reaching out to grab her dress collar and slam her against the wall of the lounge, rough and brutally unforgiving.

"Ah!" Zara screamed, pulled by her hair and forced headfirst into the wall three times. Her screams faded, replaced only by choking sobs as she swallowed blood.

The instructor and others tried to intervene, but the attackers’ soldiers forced them back at gunpoint.

Compared to the angry glares from the instructor and Miles Yates, the assailant seemed indifferent and casual. Letting go of Zara’s head, they flung her back with a cold statement in pure English: "Coming to Merrick and not knowing the rules? We’ll teach you. Next time...I won’t go easy on you just because you’re from Z country."

Not knowing the rules?

Was it because Zara, when asked about Renee Morgan, presumptuously shoved her forward—offending them with her actions?

No one understood, but they’d witnessed how truly terrifying and savage these people were—nobody dared ask more.

Renee Morgan still stood in the same spot, very close to them.

After tossing Zara back and uttering that warning, the man focused his gaze once more on Renee Morgan.

It was Renee Morgan’s first time seeing something like this. At first she couldn’t help but feel chilled, but their look suddenly reminded her of the group of elite mercenaries she’d clashed with in the base forest with Zayed—they often sized her up with just such eyes.

That time in the base forest, she played the big boss alongside Taylor, fooling and intimidating them. It was natural for them to probe and be wary.

But what about these people in front of her?

A wild guess suddenly sprang up inside her—could it be...

"What are you trying to do?" Renee Morgan’s clear eyes flashed sharply, targeting the group.

Miles Yates, Kyle Beckett, Lynn Miller, and the director’s team all jolted in fright. Was Renee crazy—trying to pull off an intimidating act at a moment like this?

The opposing group didn’t expect Renee Morgan to suddenly switch demeanor, unleashing such a strong presence. For a moment, they forgot to respond.

Renee Morgan fought her trembling heartbeat, pulling out a black stone slab from her body—about the size of her palm, shaped much like a phone, but pitch black like a chunk of rock.

"Do you even dare to mess with my status?" Her tone was cold, laced with disdain.

After Renee Morgan displayed the black stone slab, she kept her eyes locked on them. Just as expected, she saw shock, realization, and apprehension flash across their faces...

After a series of complex expressions, the leader raised his hand—ordering his people to lower their weapons. His eyes toward her now burned with respect and awe.

The turn of events was so sudden that, aside from the instructor, everyone else looked shocked and utterly incredulous.

Zara, already missing a few teeth, was painfully clear-headed, watching the change unfold, staring at Renee Morgan with eyes almost shooting flames—she really was the one Renee provoked. What did Renee take from them that made them abuse her like this?

Zara wanted to curse aloud, but her front teeth were gone, blood still spilling from her mouth—she couldn’t even speak clearly.

The item Renee Morgan produced was nothing else but the black stone given to her by the base manager in that box—a form of identity proof, she guessed. Though it was odd it came in the form of a stone.

Seeing her intimidating tactic worked, Renee Morgan was just about to figure out how to lead everyone out when chaos erupted outside the door.

The lounge was crowded, the doorway blocked by the armed group. Hearing the disturbance, they surged outside.

The lounge door opened into the airport hall, and Renee Morgan’s group saw a pack of people coming—wearing dark green uniforms, the badges instantly marking them as Z country forces.

The hostile group pointed their firearms straight at them.

The Z country squad held their own weapons, except for the man in the lead.

He never glanced at anyone, walking with swift composure. His hat shaded his forehead, revealing a pair of star-like, stern eyes, sharply defined features, crimson lips set against pale skin—a hint of cold elegance amidst his hard lines, lending a touch of striking allure.