For The Win (Gamer Girls, #6) - Auryn Hadley Page 0,181

computer dinged softly, indicating a new reply to the post she had open. Rhaven turned just as the show of support died much too fast. Dez had clearly thrown down the gauntlet. It seemed the worst person in the world had decided to pick it up.

Chapter 59

Dez pulled down Soul_Reaper's response, only taking enough time to save everything first. Backups were made, data was harvested from it, and then all of that was sent to the FBI. Well, to Cynister, which was even better.

Then, they locked down the forums with the most intense vulgarity filter they could make, modeling it after what Dez had done to the lobby chat in Denver. Let KoG call their desperation a win. It didn't really matter, because those assholes had just fucked up bad and didn't realize it yet. No one had to say it out loud, though. The frenzy with which Dez was working - let alone the cruel smile on her nearly black lips - proved it. Every so often, a random chuckle would come from someone in the room, and Rhaven completely understood that feeling.

Sure, she'd just had her life threatened, but this? It was proof. It was a confession! Soul Reaper had reared his head, and he couldn't take it back. Then there was the fact that Dez was hitting her keys so hard that Rhaven could hear it from her desk. Most likely, the race was on. She was chasing, and if that man had any idea what was good for him, he'd be running.

But, almost as if Soul_Reaper's post had emboldened the trolls, the hate posts came back harder than before. The whole team doubled down. Hours ticked away. Around nine that night, Chance came around taking orders for dinner. Then Dez stood up, clapped her hands to get everyone's attention and headed into the middle of the room.

"Associate developers, shut it down. Time to go home. This isn't going to end soon or fast, and I know that most of you have families who are wondering where you are. Lead devs, I need two teams for the next few days. Days and nights, people. Who's willing to take the early shift?"

"I can moderate posts too," Amy said from the archway.

"Then you and Mark can do mornings," Dez said. "Because we all know that Chance and I can't. Everyone find your counterpart. One for one, people. And when they come in, you go home and sleep. We're no good if we're exhausted, and this is all building up to something. We know it, because that's what they do."

Rhaven and Braden took the night shift. Gavin and Andy ended up being their opposites, since both guys had a partner at home they wanted to spend some time with. Tim and Sam took days, while Jeff and Flynn took nights. Flynn just asked for a small break so he could call his wife and let her know what was going on.

Then, around midnight, everyone started heading out. The worst of it was dying down, but that didn't mean it stopped. If anything, the posts that made it through were worse than ever. Around two in the morning, there was a rush of new accounts being made. Rhaven learned how to tag all of them and keep logs of what they were doing. Just before five, someone posted that the Deviant listing on Wikipedia had been hit. Needless to say, it was fixed within minutes.

Just as the sun came up, the news picked up the story. Sure, Amy had been making statements, but this was different. The door to the loft opened and Mark leaned out, still wearing pajama pants with no shirt, and yelled for someone to check the news. Dez hopped up and turned on a television in the corner. It was too far away for Rhaven to see much of what was on the screen, but she could hear.

"Deviant Games, one of the top video game development companies in the country, is under attack for their hiring practices," the news anchor said in his deep voice. "Christian groups are calling for a boycott on all games and products made by the company. Across social media, the debate is raging. Is this about discrimination, or has political correctness caused a diverse discrimination problem in America?"

"Shit!" Dez snarled. "Braden, call legal and get them in early. Chance!"

From his office, Chance called back, "I'm already writing responses!"

"Call the fucking FBI," Dez yelled. "Not our guys. The main office. Let them know