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

It was already dark when the helicopter landed on the helipad at the Breaking Sky Base.

The hatch slid open, and Shen Zhuo was the first to jump out.

He removed his mask, his expression colder than the north wind of the Gobi Desert. The first thing he did after landing was to kick an empty fuel drum beside the tarmac. The drum made a dull thud that echoed for several seconds in the empty base.

Xie Ran jogged over from the direction of the dormitory building and saw Shen Zhuo kicking an oil drum from afar. Xie Ran paused, swallowing back the greeting he was about to say.

"What's going on?" He took three steps at a time and walked up to Shen Zhuo. Looking at the body bag, the smile on his face had completely disappeared.

"Don't even mention it." Shen Zhu put the body bag on the ground, straightened up, wiped the sweat from his face, and said in a hoarse voice as if he had been sanded with sandpaper, "Some idiot dragged the vice-captain out of the cabin while he was leaning out of the door. Three thousand meters, no parachute. The captain chased after him and pulled him out—without him, the vice-captain would be a pile of minced meat on the ground today."

After listening, Xie Ran remained silent for a long while. Then he lowered his head and looked at the body bag on the ground with an expression devoid of any extra emotion, as if his gaze could penetrate the black plastic and see the thing inside that no longer resembled a human.

"Take care of this before we eat."

"What should we do?"

Xie Huai'an's voice came from behind.

He emerged from the dormitory building at some point, carrying a communications logbook and wearing a faded training uniform with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his fingers still smudged with pencil dust. He walked to the body bag, glanced down at it, and then looked at Li Mo.

Li Mo was standing at the edge of the tarmac, placing the equipment box he had just taken out of the cabin on the ground.

He put the equipment box down, straightened up, and turned to look at the body bag on the ground. In the twilight, his profile was divided into light and shadow by the lights of the distant dormitory building and the still-dark sky overhead.

"According to the rules," he said, his voice not loud, but everyone on the quiet tarmac could hear him clearly.

Xie Huai'an nodded and made a note in his communications log.

Xie Ran chuckled, squatted down, unzipped the body bag, and took a look.

He frowned at the mangled mess inside: "It's been ripped apart quite badly, it'll be hard to take it apart. Shen Zhuo, you give me a hand later, I'll handle the joints, you can take care of picking out the bits of flesh."

Xuan Xiao stood a few steps away from them, still holding Bai Ye's thermos in his arms. His face was whiter than the snow in the Gobi Desert.

"You—you're serious?" His voice cracked.

He glanced at Li Mo, then at Xie Huai'an, and finally at Xie Ran, who was arguing with Shen Zhuo about whether the minced meat should be separated by body part. His expression was as if he were seeing this group for the first time. "Dismemberment? Nailed to the wall? And neatly arranged? Is this disposing of corpses or an art exhibition? You Pokong—what exactly is Pokong? I know you're not good people, but this is too—too—"

He couldn't continue. He didn't know what word to use to end it—"cruel"? Too mild. "Perverted"? Not accurate enough. "Inhuman"? He felt that word was closest, but saying it didn't quite match the feeling he had after spending the past two weeks with them.

Lu Xiao leaned against the railing on the edge of the tarmac, looking at the expression on Xuan Xiao's face that seemed to be shattering his worldview, and couldn't help but chuckle.

He touched the marks on his neck, his tone returning to its usual teasing, but with a more serious undertone: "Xiao Zai, do you think we're good people?"

Xuanxiao looked at him but didn't answer. He couldn't answer.

"We've never been good people. We're mercenaries—we do what we're paid to do, we kill without blinking an eye, and people in the underworld tremble at the mere mention of 'Breaking Through the Void.' But do you know why no one dares to touch us? It's not because we're the most ruthless, it's because we have rules. Breaking Through the Void's rules were established when Bai Chen was around—three rules. First, the mission comes first. Second, teammates come second. Third, anyone who touches us will be repaid a hundredfold. These three rules aren't just decorations on paper or mounted on the wall; they're ironclad laws etched into the bones of every Breaking Through the Void member. When he was around, these rules were never broken. Now that he's gone, the rules won't change. Not a single word of these three rules will be missing."

Lu Xiao removed his hand from his neck, straightened up, and his tone became serious, devoid of his usual joking. "What did that guy do today? During training, he dragged the instructor off a 3,000-meter cliff because of personal emotions. He wanted me dead. This isn't a joke, not an accident, it was premeditated murder. If Lao Li hadn't jumped, there wouldn't be one body bag lying on the ground now, but two—one of them would be mine. For people like that, the rules of Pokong have never changed. Dismemberment, nailing to walls, sending messages—not because we like to create art, but because we want everyone to see it. Those who see it will tell others, and others will tell the whole world: For those who encounter Pokong, death isn't the worst thing. What happens after death is."

Xuanxiao remained silent.

He recalled what Lu Xiao had said before firing his gun at the special forces base that morning: "He's joined Pokong, so he's one of us in Pokong."

At the time, he only thought it was protecting his own, being domineering, and having the strong attitude of "no one can touch my people." Now he understands that those words weren't just about Bai Ye, nor were they just about how to protect someone while they're alive.

Seeing that Xuan Xiao was silent, Xie Ran walked over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Xiao Zai, I told you, it's always like this the first time. You'll get used to it. After I finish eating and take this guy apart, do you want to come over and take a look? I'll explain human anatomy to you. That's what Dr. Wen taught me—first, learn where the joints are, so you'll know where to disassemble them during a fight."

"No." Xuanxiao's voice was still dry, but it was no longer trembling as before.

"Really not going to look? This is a rare opportunity. This one is cut quite thoroughly, so we can see the muscle layers clearly. Dr. Wen even said last time—"

"I said no!" Xuan Xiao practically roared. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, rubbed his temples, and when he opened them again, his voice had returned to normal, even carrying a hint of helpless self-mockery. "I beg you. Don't invite me to watch you dismantle corpses anymore. I really don't want to get used to this."

Xuan Xiao suddenly realized that his understanding of this group of people had been far too shallow before today—he thought he understood them, thought he knew how ruthless and insane they were. But today he truly understood that this group of people were so insane that they could talk about a corpse they had killed with their own hands as casually as if they were discussing what to eat for dinner.

What he found even more incomprehensible was that he didn't feel like running away.