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

Bai Ye waited in that small room for almost an hour.

The room was small, with walls painted a grayish-white. Near the ceiling was a narrow window with iron bars welded to the frame. Afternoon sunlight slanted in through the gaps in the bars, casting stripes of light and shadow on the floor. The furnishings were simple—a metal-framed bed with a thin mattress, a plastic stool with peeling paint, and a few empty water bottles piled in the corner.

Bai Ye sat on the edge of the bed, her hands on her knees, her back slightly hunched, maintaining a tired yet vigilant posture.

He didn't look around; he just stared down at the worn-out toes of his sneakers, as if waiting for something, or perhaps deep in thought. But beneath this quiet exterior, his mind was racing.

Footsteps could be heard outside the window. Approximately every ten minutes, the steps were evenly spaced, indicating a patrol. There was an iron gate to the left, and the sound was coming from behind it. Someone was speaking the local language, their tone relaxed, occasionally punctuated by laughter—indicating that these people weren't on high alert, and that his arrival hadn't caused a large-scale commotion. There was the sound of water behind the right wall, possibly from the kitchen or laundry area. Voices could be heard at the end of the corridor directly ahead.

He pieced this information together in his mind, creating fragments that he could access whenever he needed them.

The door was pushed open.

The moment Bai Ye heard the door hinges turn, he looked up, his body instinctively shrinking back slightly. His expression shifted from exhaustion to a subconscious fear. He hunched his shoulders and retreated a little towards the corner of the bed, gripping the edge of the sheets with both hands, like a startled little animal.

The man who entered was around thirty years old, of medium build, wearing a black tight-fitting T-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his shoulders, revealing two arms covered in tattoos—snakes, skulls, and indistinct Sanskrit symbols densely coiled on his skin, extending from his shoulders to his wrists.

He entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him, the latch clicking into the doorframe. The sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.

"Is it him?" the man asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice neither loud nor soft, carrying a lazy indifference. A voice outside the door responded with a "Yes," and footsteps faded into the distance. Only he and Bai Ye remained in the room.

The man stopped two steps away from Bai Ye and looked down at him. Bai Ye looked up, his lips trembling slightly, and a muffled syllable escaped his throat, as if he wanted to speak but dared not.

"Big brother...I..."

The man didn't give him a chance to finish speaking.

He threw a punch, the fist slamming squarely into Bai Ye's stomach. The force was heavy and vicious, delivered with the precision of a trained practitioner.

Bai Ye's body was knocked off the edge of the bed by the punch, and he curled up on the ground, his back hitting the cold tiles with a dull thud.

He hunched over, clutching his abdomen with both hands, a mouthful of acidic water welling up from deep in his throat. Mixed with the remaining liquid in his stomach, it spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the floor and leaving a small, pale yellow stain on the gray-white tiles.

He's in pain. He's really in pain.

This body was only sixteen years old and had never taken a punch of this level before. His stomach was cramping violently, and the pain made him tremble as he breathed.

He mentally memorized the landing point, force, and angle of the punch—the fist landed on the soft area between the ribs and abdominal muscles, with a small contact area but strong penetrating power. It hit the area above the stomach, causing gastric juices to reflux from the esophagus.

This is a standard interrogation technique that does not cause fatal injuries, but can render the interrogated person unable to resist for a short period of time.

Bai Ye lay on the ground coughing for a long time before she recovered.

His forehead was pressed against the cold ground, his hand was still clutching his abdomen, his knuckles clenched white, and his shoulders were trembling slightly, like a fish struggling after being thrown ashore. He raised his head, his face covered in cold sweat, a trickle of acidic liquid hanging from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes reddened from the physical stimulation.

"Who are you?" The man looked down at him, his voice still languid, as if the punch he'd delivered earlier was merely a casual duster brushing away some dust. "What brings you here?"

Bai Ye opened her mouth, her voice hoarse and trembling as if she had been beaten: "Lin... Lin Mo... sixteen years old... Wa State... parents are gone... sold by relatives... ran away... someone was chasing me... I had no choice but to run here..."

The man's gaze lingered on his face for two seconds, as if scanning every word he uttered.

Bai Ye did not look away, maintaining that terrified look in his eyes, his pupils slightly dilated, his breathing rapid and shallow, and his lips still slightly spasming from the lingering pain of the punch.

"Your relatives sold you out? Where did they sell you to?"

"The docks on the Mekong River... the human traffickers locked me in a shed... I escaped while they were changing people... I ran for three days... someone was chasing me on the road..." Bai Ye coughed twice, his cough sounding like he was about to cry, "Big brother... I'm not a bad person... I just wanted to find a place to live..."

The man stared at him for several more seconds. Then he bent down, grabbed Bai Ye's chin with one hand, and lifted his face, exposing his entire face to the sunlight streaming in from the window.

His gaze swept over Bai Ye's face, from her forehead to her chin, from her cheekbones to behind her ears, examining her very carefully.

The disguise of the daytime is very good.

The man released his jaw, straightened up, and took a step back.

"Coward," he said. There was no anger or contempt in that word, only a bland sense of "wasting my time."

He turned and walked to the door, opened it, and called out into the hallway, "Brother Cat."

Cat Bro walked over from the other end of the corridor, his steps still steady. The man stepped aside to let him through the doorway and gestured with his chin into the room: "Interrogation complete. Just a cowardly kid who ran away, nothing serious. Take him to see the boss, see what he does with him."

Cat Brother glanced at Bai Ye, who was still curled up on the ground, and then at the pool of gastric juice on the ground, his face expressionless. He walked in, bent down, grabbed Bai Ye's arm, and lifted him up from the ground.

Bai Ye's legs were still weak when he was pulled up; his knees bent slightly but he braced himself. He lowered his head, not daring to look at Cat Brother, and whispered, "Thank you, big brother... thank you for not kicking me out..."

Cat Brother didn't respond, but grabbed his arm and led him towards the door.

Bai Ye staggered alongside him, one hand still clutching his abdomen, his face showing lingering pain and fear. But from Cat Brother's blind spot, he subtly twitched the corner of his mouth.

First level passed.