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

As Bai Ye squatted beside the corpse, contemplating whether to dig a pit or burn it, he heard a very faint whistling sound behind his ear.

Bai Ye's body reacted in a fraction of a second before the sound of the wind arrived. He suddenly turned to the side, crossing his arms to block in front of him. A heavy punch landed on his forearm, the force so great that he slid back half a meter, leaving two obvious marks on the ground with the soles of his shoes.

Before he could even adjust his balance, the second strike arrived—a low sweeping leg, precisely aimed at the outside of his supporting leg's knee.

Bai Ye raised his leg to block, shinbone striking shinbone with a dull thud. He gritted his teeth, took a half-step back to create distance, and in that brief gap, he saw the attacker clearly.

A black mask covered most of his face, revealing only his eyes. Without pausing, the man closed in as Bai Ye retreated, throwing a straight punch aimed at his face with such speed that the sound of air being cut could be clearly heard.

Bai Ye dodged to the side, then grabbed the other man's wrist with his other hand. His fingers were already on the skin of the other man's forearm, and he was about to exert force to counterattack when the other man flipped his wrist, broke free of his grip, and slammed his elbow into Bai Ye's chest.

Bai Ye parried with his arm, his elbow striking Bai Ye's forearm, sending numbness through Bai Ye's entire arm.

His brow furrowed.

This man is no ordinary drug dealer's bodyguard.

He figured out those people's fighting style in two weeks—relying on brute force, with wide, sweeping movements and obvious openings. But this person's fighting style was on a completely different level. He was fast, powerful, and every move precisely blocked his counterattack route, as if guiding him to retreat in a certain direction.

The struggle lasted for nearly a minute. During that minute, Bai Ye attempted to counterattack at least seven times, but none of them succeeded.

There was always an insurmountable gap between his fighting instincts from his past life and the limits of his strength in this body—his brain knew how to fight, but his arms couldn't keep up halfway up.

The man delivered a hook punch to Bai Ye's blocking arm, the force so great that Bai Ye lost all feeling in his arm. In the instant Bai Ye lost his balance, the man lunged forward, grabbing his shoulder with his left hand and locking his arm with his right, using his waist and hips to flip him over.

Bai Ye's back slammed heavily onto the ground. The impact traveled from his spine to the base of his skull, making his vision go white and his ears ring with a sharp tinnitus, as if someone were ringing a bell next to his ear.

He lay on his back on the rough cement ground, watching the gray sky above him spin in his field of vision, with only a continuous buzzing in his ears.

He lay there motionless for a while. His limbs were spread out, his chest heaving rapidly, and every muscle in his back screamed from the aftershock of the over-the-shoulder throw. He blinked, and the whiteness in his vision slowly faded.

Then he heard the sound of a lighter. A soft click.

Bai Ye turned his head and saw that the person who attacked him was leaning against a crooked tree trunk. The mask had been ripped off, revealing Scorpion's sharply defined face.

He had a freshly lit cigarette dangling from his mouth; the flame flickered briefly at the tip, and smoke spilled from the corner of his lips, dispersing into a grayish-white hue in the afternoon sunlight.

Bai Ye stared at that face for several seconds before finally managing to squeeze out a single sentence: "...Scorpion."

Scorpion didn't respond immediately. He took a drag of his cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke through his nostrils, the ash falling to the ground in the wind.

He glanced at the corpse on the ground, then at Bai Ye lying there catching his breath. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly, as if he were savoring something: "Your skills are not bad."

Bai Ye slowly sat up, supporting himself on the ground. His back still ached; the force of the over-the-shoulder throw had made every vertebra protest. He moved his neck, his cervical vertebrae cracking softly, before turning his head to look at Scorpion: "You didn't even use your full strength."

Scorpion took the cigarette out of his mouth, held it between his fingers, glanced down at Bai Ye, and exhaled a smoke ring: "If I had used my full strength, you would have been dead long ago."

Bai Ye remained silent for a moment.

"Who exactly are you?"

Scorpion glanced at him, smoke escaping from his half-open lips, blurring his expression.

"With skills as good as yours, you couldn't possibly be a drug lord's bodyguard," Bai Ye continued, his voice low but every word clear. "You saw through my disguise from day one, but you didn't expose me. Today you followed me, you didn't stop me from killing, and you didn't even show yourself until I finished fighting. When you fought me just now, your fighting style was completely different from Viper's—you used a professionally trained fighting style. Who exactly are you?"

The scorpion threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it out with the tip of its boot. The spark bounced once on the gravel and went out.

He straightened up, brushed the dust off his trousers, and glanced at the corpse on the ground again: "You'll find out later. Knowing now won't do you any good."

Bai Ye sat there, watching him.

The scorpion means it will tell him later. That means not now.

Bai Ye gleaned two meanings from Scorpion's words: first, he wouldn't kill him to silence him today; second, there was more to come between them.

He didn't press further, but simply closed his eyes, leaned his back against the wall, and slowly processed the aftershocks of the over-the-shoulder throw.

"What should we do with the body?" he asked.

"I'll handle it." Scorpion gestured with his chin toward the corpse on the ground. "I'll go back and tell Viper that the goods were fake, and I've already dealt with the seller."

Bai Ye frowned: "He won't do anything to you?"

Scorpion glanced at him and a slight smile played on his lips.

"He won't die."

After saying those three words, Scorpion squatted down, grabbed the back of the corpse by the collar with one hand, and pulled the corpse off the ground as if it were a light bag of goods.

He glanced at Bai Ye sideways: "The motorcycle's up ahead. Ride it back and get the goods—even though they're fake, we still need something to show for it. I'll go back after I've finished dealing with things here."

Bai Ye stood up from the ground, rubbing his still sore shoulders. He watched Scorpion drag the corpse towards the back of the warehouse, his steps still steady and heavy, as if he were carrying not the corpse of an adult male but an ordinary piece of cargo.

Bai Ye stood there until the scorpion's figure disappeared into the shadows around the corner of the warehouse before turning and walking towards the gas station. The motorcycle was still in its place, a layer of dust covering the engine's exhaust pipe.

He got into the car, tied the woven bag containing the counterfeit goods to the back seat, turned the key, and the engine roared to life, echoing for a few seconds in the empty, abandoned gas station.