Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

When Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo got out of the car, their legs were shaking.

Zhao Xiaohu tried to grab Qian Duoduo's sleeve to bolster his courage, but found that Qian Duoduo's hand was also shaking. When their hands touched, the shaking became even more violent.

Li Mo walked at the front without turning his head.

Lu Xiao walked between Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo, one hand on each shoulder, his smile as gentle as an older brother taking the neighbor's child to the park.

He patted Zhao Xiaohu on the shoulder, his tone light and reassuring: "Don't tremble. It's not like we're sending you to kill people. You've only been at Pokong for less than a week, you haven't even gotten used to handling guns yet. Sending you to kill people? The captain wouldn't even want to waste bullets."

Zhao Xiaohu's legs trembled slightly less, but his voice was still split: "Then...what are we doing here?"

"Watch," Lu Xiao said with a smile, "Today you just need to watch. After you're done watching, go back and cook or train. Isn't that simple?"

Qian Duoduo swallowed hard. He felt that this matter could not possibly be that simple.

The road they were walking on was flanked by high concrete walls covered with barbed wire, and the sky above was sliced ​​into gray fragments by the iron fence. The gray building ahead had an iron gate, and two armed sentries stood at the entrance. Upon seeing Li Mo, the sentries stood at attention, saluted, and then pushed open the iron gate.

Behind the door was a long corridor, with rooms on both sides fitted with one-way glass. The glass appeared as a mirror from the outside, but was transparent from the inside. At the end of the corridor was a heavier iron door. After Li Mo pushed it open, a gust of cold wind rushed in.

The viewing area is on the third floor, in a room that resembles an observation room. One entire wall is made of one-way glass, facing a large open space.

The open space was semi-enclosed, with high walls on three sides and barbed wire on one side, and the ground was covered with gray-brown gravel. A dozen fully armed men stood in the open space, wearing black hoods and tactical vests, and carrying identical automatic rifles.

Standing opposite them were several ragged, wounded men. Their hands were tied behind their backs; some were kneeling, others were slumped on the ground, and one, unable to remain kneeling any longer, fell to the side, only to be pulled up and forced back to kneeling by a gunman beside him.

Zhao Xiaohu pressed his face against the one-way glass of the observation room, his voice trembling like leaves rustling in the wind: "Who...who are they?"

"A death row inmate. Or rather, practically a death row inmate." Xie Huai'an appeared in the observation room at some point, flipping through a communications logbook. His tone was as calm as if he were describing the weather. "A mercenary we caught two months ago in the northern border, employed by a group that specializes in smuggling arms into the country. After being caught and interrogated, he confessed everything he needed to. There's no point in keeping him alive. It just so happens that you new recruits need to learn a lesson from their fate."

"What...what class?" Qian Duoduo's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out of her throat.

"Overcome your fear of killing." Li Mo stood at the front of the observation room, arms crossed, back to everyone, his gaze fixed on the open space on the other side of the one-way glass. "You've entered the Void. You can't spend your whole life cooking in the cafeteria. Sooner or later you'll be on the battlefield, facing enemies, seeing blood and corpses. If you're forced to face death for the first time on that day, you'll most likely not survive the first engagement. So today, let you see it for yourself."

His tone was calm and steady, as if he were giving a routine tactics lesson. But Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo were completely oblivious; their eyes were glued to the one-way mirror, their pupils dilated, and their breathing rapid.

"Watch closely." Lu Xiao stood next to several new recruits, a smile on his lips.

The next second, the gunman pulled the trigger. The spent cartridge ejected from the ejection port, clanging and clattering as it hit the gravel ground, creating a dense, crisp metallic sound in the open air.

Muzzle flashes flickered between the gray walls, and the sound of bullets tearing through flesh—that dull, wet, teeth-grinding thud—mingled with the gunfire, filling every corner of the observation room.

The men, bound hand and foot, didn't even have time to scream before their bodies convulsed, twisted, and collapsed amidst the hail of bullets, like disassembled rag dolls. Blood gushed from the bullet holes, splattering onto the gravel ground, mixing with the dark brown stains already present in the cracks, reflecting a glaring red in the winter afternoon sun.

The last person to fall twitched twice and then lay still, one hand still bound behind his back, his fingers slightly curled as if reaching for something.

The gunfire stopped. The open ground was filled with the mingled smells of gunpowder and blood, which could be faintly detected even through the one-way glass.

The observation room was silent for a full ten seconds.

Bai Ye stood before the one-way mirror, his hands hanging at his sides, expressionless. His gaze swept over the corpses on the open ground, over the pools of blood still spreading on the rubble, over the still-smoking shell casings, his expression unwavering.

In his past life, he had witnessed scenes a hundred times more horrific than this—the entire squad was ambushed, his teammates were blown to pieces right before his eyes, and he crawled back to report the news while coughing up blood.

The several executed corpses weren't even considered bloody to him. But he quickly realized that he was now a sixteen-year-old recruit who had only been in the Void for less than a week. He should at least have some reaction. So he frowned slightly, as if trying to process the scene before him.

Xuan Xiao stood beside Bai Ye. His face was paler than usual, his fingers gripped the seam of his trousers, and his Adam's apple bobbed. But he neither vomited nor looked away.

The practical observation he had two days ago at the rainforest factory had already given him a heads-up—he had already experienced the sound of flesh being ground to pieces by the mercenary Shen Zhuo kicked into the conveyor belt. Although the scene before him was extremely shocking, his tolerance was clearly much stronger than the first time.

He looked at the pool of blood on the ground, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.

Zhao Xiaohu's face was as white as plaster. His mouth was open, his lips were trembling, he wanted to say something but couldn't utter a single word. He gripped Qian Duoduo's arm tightly, his nails almost digging into Qian Duoduo's flesh.

Qian Duoduo wasn't in much better shape; her legs had completely given way, and she had to lean on Zhao Xiaohu to keep from collapsing to the ground.

They had been in Pokong for five days. On the first day, they were taken to the canteen to peel potatoes. On the second day, they learned to cut vegetables. On the third day, they were scolded by Old Zhou for mistaking salt for sugar. On the fourth day, they spent the afternoon moving rice at the supply station. On the fifth day, they were brought here to witness an execution.

Lu Xiao turned around, put his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head to look at the two chubby little boys slumped by the window.

"How is it?"