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

2 PM, indoor fighting room.

The fluorescent lights illuminated the entire field, and the mats still bore the marks of sweat from the morning's training.

Everyone from Group A arrived—Xie Ran and Shen Zhuo sat cross-legged on a cushion by the wall, with an opened bag of sunflower seeds between them. Shen Zhuo cracked some seeds while whispering the opening number in Xie Ran's ear.

Xie Huai'an leaned against the corner of the wall, his communication log spread out on his lap, a pencil tucked behind his ear, his expression still the same routine indifference.

Wen Yan sat down next to him, with the medical kit at her feet, the zipper already unzipped, ready to deal with any emergencies.

Xuan Xiao stood at the edge of the field, his fingers gripping the seam of his training pants, his knuckles turning white. He was usually so talkative he could rouse a dead man, but now he couldn't utter a single word.

Li Mo stood on the wall directly opposite the arena, arms crossed, his back against the cold concrete. His gaze swept across the entire fighting arena and landed on Bai Ye, who was warming up.

Bai Ye took off his training uniform jacket, leaving him wearing only a black short-sleeved shirt.

The sixteen-year-old boy looked excessively thin, but his exposed arms had smooth and powerful lines, and his skin was smooth. The wounds from the dagger in the alley, the knife wound below his collarbone, and the red marks on his wrists had all disappeared completely, leaving no trace of a scar.

When Wen Yan examined him last time, she stared at him for a long time before finally saying, "His healing ability is good." But the speed of healing was clearly not something that could be explained by "good."

He crushed the blueberry candy in his mouth, the candy crunching softly between his teeth.

Lu Xiao stood opposite him, slowly moving his wrists and ankles. After taking off his jacket, it was clear that he wasn't muscular, but every muscle was lean and powerful, honed through real combat.

"The rules are simple," Lu Xiao said, cracking his neck. "Falling to the ground means you lose, surrendering means you lose. You don't need to beat me; as long as you can avoid being taken down by me within three minutes, you pass the combat test. How about that, fair?"

"Hmm." Bai Ye responded and assumed a fighting stance.

"Okay, let's begin—"

Before the words were even finished, Bai Ye had already moved. He pushed off the ground with his right foot, lowered his center of gravity, and charged straight at Lu Xiao's abdomen with a whooshing sound. His first move was a powerful knee strike, and the speed was beyond what one would expect from someone with his physique.

Lu Xiao raised an eyebrow, dodged to the side, and at the same time pressed down with his left hand to slap open his knee.

The moment his palm struck his kneecap, he was somewhat surprised—the force was greater than he had anticipated, but not enough to break his defense. He used the momentum to take a half-step back, creating some distance, his smile undiminished: "Not bad, so aggressive right from the start—who taught you that?"

Bai Ye did not answer. Without pausing after landing, he turned and delivered an elbow strike to Lu Xiao's temple the instant his right leg retracted.

Lu Xiao raised his hand to block, his forearm colliding with his elbow joint with a dull thud.

The impact made his arm go numb, and he squinted slightly. The angle and timing were perfect, but the force was lacking—if Bai Ye were another twenty pounds heavier, that elbow strike could have knocked someone unconscious.

But he didn't have time to think about it, because Bai Ye's attack came again.

A low sweeping kick aimed straight for the outside of his knee. Lu Xiao raised his leg to block, shinbone colliding with shinbone.

As Bai Ye made impact, he spun half a circle using the reaction force, and the heel of his other leg slammed directly into Lu Xiao's neck—a spinning back kick.

Lu Xiao suddenly leaned back, his heel brushing past his chin, less than three centimeters from his Adam's apple.

He rolled on the mat to create some distance, then knelt on one knee and raised his head. The skin on his neck where the toe had grazed it stung; he touched it—there was no blood—but if that kick had landed squarely, he would be lying on the ground, gasping for breath.

This kid's fighting style was completely different from what he had expected—it wasn't about having a "basic foundation," but rather that every move was aimed at killing.

Lu Xiao was cornered against the wall.

Bai Ye's attacks gave him no room to breathe, one punch after another, one elbow after another, one knee after another, each blow aimed at vital points.

Lu Xiao's arm, which had been used to block attacks, was already bruised in several places. He seized an opening in the midst of the barrage of attacks and tried to use a grappling technique to lock Bai Ye's right arm—and then he discovered an even more chilling truth.

The instant he threw a punch, Bai Ye's hand was already waiting in the path of his fist. It was as if he knew exactly where he was going to strike. It wasn't about reacting quickly to block; it was about anticipating his movements.

Just then, Bai Ye grabbed Lu Xiao's hand and twisted it behind his back.

Bai Ye used his momentum to propel himself forward, flipping himself onto Lu Xiao's back, his legs wrapped around Lu Xiao's waist, his arms around Lu Xiao's neck from behind, and his forearms precisely positioned on Lu Xiao's carotid artery.

Triangle lock.

A sixteen-year-old recruit used a standard triangle lock on the vice-captain of Team Breaking Through the Sky.

Lu Xiao felt his vision blurring and the pressure on his neck tightening.

He gritted his teeth, estimating Bai Ye's arm strength at that moment—the force wasn't fatal, but the lock was too precise, the pressure point right at the carotid sinus; if he held on for even a few more seconds, he would pass out. He raised his hand and patted the mat, making two crisp sounds, a standard signal of surrender.

But Bai Ye did not let go.

Xuan Xiao was so anxious he was about to jump up. Xie Ran and Shen Zhuo stood up straight at the same time, and Wen Yan had already stood up from his chair. They were all calling Bai Ye's name, but Bai Ye couldn't hear anything. Only one thought kept repeating in his mind—kill him.

Li Mo suddenly rushed out.

He rushed from the other side of the field to between the two in the blink of an eye. His left hand grabbed Bai Ye's arm that was choking Lu Xiao's neck, the force precise and firm, just enough to pry open his joints without injuring him. His right hand pressed down on Bai Ye's shoulder, lifting him off Lu Xiao.

Li Mo pressed Bai Ye against his chest, one hand on the back of his head, and whispered something in his ear, his voice so low that only the two of them could hear it.

Bai Ye's body stiffened for a moment. Then the trembling slowly stopped. He buried his face in Li Mo's chest, neither looking up nor speaking.

Lu Xiao scrambled up from the mat, kneeling on one knee, panting heavily as he touched his neck, which had almost been snapped. The collar of his training uniform was torn askew, and a deep red mark appeared on his neck. It took him a while to find his voice.

"Holy shit..." His voice was hoarse as he looked up at Bai Ye, who was being held in Li Mo's arms. "This kid's every move is aimed at killing me. It's just that his strength is a bit lacking—if he were twenty pounds heavier, that triangular lock would have knocked me out." He paused, then added, "No, it's not a matter of strength. Is this the level a sixteen-year-old should be at?"