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

Bai Ye rode his beat-up motorcycle out of the stronghold's iron gate and headed southeast along the dirt road. The motorcycle's engine sounded particularly jarring in the sweltering tropical afternoon air, and the wheels kicked up clouds of dust as they rolled over gravel and cracked earth.

He wasn't driving very fast. He needed time to observe.

Bai Ye's gaze was not fixed on any one point; his eyes swept back and forth across both sides of the road—observing the terrain, the location of intersections, suitable bushes for ambush, and suitable building ruins for concealment.

After riding for about forty minutes, he parked his motorcycle in front of an abandoned gas station. The gas station sign was rusted beyond recognition, a few concrete pillars supported a dilapidated roof, and the concrete slabs on the ground were cracked in several places, with waist-high weeds growing in the gaps. There were no cars, no people, and not even birdsong could be heard around.

Bai Ye parked his motorcycle in the shade beside the gas station, turned off the engine, and took out the note to look at it again. The address matched; it was indeed this place.

He stood there for a moment, but heard no sound. The gas station was empty; the old gas pumps were rusted dark brown, and the convenience store behind the broken glass doors and windows was pitch black, making it impossible to see anything.

He took a few steps forward and stopped at the side of the convenience store entrance—a spot where he could observe what was happening inside without completely exposing his back to the unknown. He waited a while longer, but still no one came out.

Bai Ye frowned slightly. He began to recheck the address on the note to make sure he hadn't forgotten the way.

Viper's subordinates are usually very disciplined—they say what time to arrive and where to wait, and they are almost never late without a reason.

He was still looking down at the note when he heard a noise behind him.

Bai Ye's body moved faster than his brain. The moment the gunshot rang out, he jerked his head to the left. The bullet grazed his right ear, struck the wall of the convenience store in front of him, and splinters of brick flew onto his shoulder.

Bai Ye crouched down, turned his head, and looked in the direction from which the gunshots came.

A man emerged from behind a large tree on the side of the gas station. He was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, wearing a dusty old jacket, and holding a silenced pistol in his hand, the muzzle still emitting a faint wisp of smoke.

He clearly hadn't expected Bai Ye to dodge the shot—his expression changed from preparing to fire a second shot to a brief moment of stunned silence.

Bai Ye stood up from the ground and patted the broken brick dust off his shoulder.

His face was expressionless, but his voice was two octaves lower than before, carrying a clear, undisguised coldness: "Brother Viper sent me. Are you here to deliver goods or to take my life?"

The man sized him up, as if reassessing the boy before him. After several seconds, he holstered his pistol and grinned. The smile carried a hint of insincere apology.

"Just kidding. A new face like you should be tested to see if you really have the guts." He turned and walked to the side of the gas station, beckoning to Bai Ye. "The goods are in the warehouse in the back. Follow me."

Bai Ye followed behind him, walking along a path overgrown with weeds on the side of the gas station, until they arrived at a small warehouse made of corrugated iron. The man pushed open the rusted iron door, stepped aside to make way for Bai Ye, and gestured with his chin for her to go inside.

The warehouse was dimly lit, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the door illuminating the dust floating in the air. Several woven bags were piled in the corner, their openings tied with rope. The man walked over and used a knife to cut open the seal of one of the bags, revealing a white powdery substance inside.

"It's all here. Tell Viper that the quantity will be even larger next time."

Bai Ye walked to the bag, squatted down, and looked down at the goods inside.

He reached out and pinched a small amount of powder, then held it to his nose and smelled it—he had seen this stuff countless times in his past life, familiar with its color, texture, and smell. The powder's granular texture was off, its color was darker, and the chemical odor was at least two levels weaker than normal.

This is a counterfeit. It's diluted and contains at least half impurities.

Bai Ye flicked the powder from his fingertips, stood up, and turned to face the man in the doorway. His face remained expressionless, but his voice was colder than before: "This thing is fake."

The man's smile faltered for a moment.

He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his jacket pockets, tilted his head to look at Bai Ye, and said with a dismissive, frivolous tone, "Little brother, do you even know anything about goods? Viper told you to come and get the goods, so just do it. Don't pretend to be an expert. The goods are right here. You don't want them? Fine, you can go back empty-handed and tell Viper you didn't get them—guess if he believes you or me?"

Bai Ye looked at him and remained silent for two seconds.

Then he moved, much faster than the man had anticipated.

He covered the distance of several meters in the warehouse in two steps, grabbed the man's wrist with his left hand and pulled his hand out of his pocket, while his right hand locked the man's throat. He leaned forward and used the impact and his own weight to slam the man directly into the metal wall.

The metal wall slammed against the metal sheet with a loud crash, shaking the entire wall. The man leaned against the metal sheet, his throat choked, unable to breathe, his hands instinctively grabbing Bai Ye's wrists, trying to pry them open.

Bai Ye gave him no chance to struggle. His right hand, which was gripping the man's throat, suddenly tightened, rotating his wrist ninety degrees, while his left hand grabbed the man's chin and twisted it in the opposite direction. The cracking sound of bones dislocating was particularly clear in the cramped warehouse, like the sound of dry firewood being snapped underfoot.

The man's body twitched twice, then went limp and slowly slid down to the ground against the metal wall.

Bai Ye released his grip, took a half step back, and looked down at the corpse on the ground that had begun to lose its warmth.

The warehouse fell silent, with only the slight vibrations of the corrugated iron roof in the wind and the occasional chirping of birds in the distance.

Bai Ye stood still, looking down at his hands. The lingering sensation of his muscles tightening and the fleeting feeling of his bones shifting from the exertion was still there. Two seconds, clean and efficient, without any unnecessary movement.

He shook his hand, brushing non-existent dust from his fingers, then frowned. He didn't know what to do with the corpse.

He couldn't leave the body here—it would be only a matter of time before the trail led back to him. Nor could he carry the body back—that would be tantamount to telling Viper that he had killed someone.

He crouched down, searched the man's body, and found a car key and an unlocked cell phone. He put the key and phone in his pocket, then stood up, turned his head to look in the direction of the warehouse door, and pondered how to dispose of the body.

Just then—