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

two months.

The days flowed by in the depths of the jungle in a viscous and slow manner.

Bai Ye gradually got used to the rhythm here. In two months, he learned to distinguish the quality of goods, memorized the location of each transfer point on the three transportation lines, and also figured out the profit chains of several core leaders under Viper.

And Viper's trust in him was gradually increasing.

From initially letting him learn from Scorpion, to later letting him run short distances alone, and then occasionally giving him the ledgers to enter and file—after two months, Bai Ye was able to access the outermost layer of the Viper Cash Flow Network.

Although the actual list of subscribers and the core flow of funds were still locked in the safe in Viper's study, Bai Ye wasn't in a hurry. He knew these things couldn't be rushed. He was waiting for a specific moment.

That morning, just as dawn broke, Scorpion knocked on White Night's door.

"Don't go out today." Scorpion pulled him to the corner of the corridor, lowered his voice, and glanced at the end of the corridor to make sure no one was there. "No matter what noise you hear or who you see, stay in your room and don't move."

Bai Ye looked at him: "What's wrong?"

Scorpion glanced at the end of the corridor, then lowered his voice slightly: "Viper caught someone. An undercover narcotics officer. He infiltrated from the border and had been there for about six months. He was caught last night."

He paused, his gaze briefly darkening. "We're having a trial today. It won't be pleasant. Stay in your room and don't come out."

Bai Ye stood in the shadows at the corner of the corridor. After listening, he remained silent for a moment, then nodded: "Understood."

Scorpion said nothing more, turned and walked towards the other end of the corridor. The rhythm of his boots on the cement floor was steady and powerful, and he quickly disappeared into the morning light at the corner.

the other side.

The warehouse on the west side of the main courtyard was emptied today.

The viper sat in the chair in the very center, with a person kneeling on the ground in front of him.

The man looked to be in his early thirties, with a very short buzz cut. He had several fresh bloodstains on his face, a split at the corner of his mouth, and his left eye was swollen shut. His hands were cuffed behind his back, his knees were stuck in the dust of the concrete floor, and the front of his T-shirt was torn, revealing a sizable bruise on his chest.

Although he looked disheveled, his back was very straight.

The viper tilted its head and scrutinized him for a while, as if carefully examining a salvaged antique, before slowly speaking: "Number 037. Came from the south, stayed on the border for over three years, and started infiltrating my area six months ago... Who's your superior? What were you sent in for?"

037 raised his head, glanced at the viper with his one still-open eye, and then smiled. The smile pulled at the wound at the corner of his mouth, and blood seeped from the crack, which he licked away with his tongue, showing no fear whatsoever.

"you guess."

"I guess? I guess you want to come in and find out what's going on with me, who my superiors are, where my funds go, so you can take down the whole chain. Right?"

037 neither refuted nor admitted anything. He simply knelt there, looking at Viper with an almost calm gaze, as if he were looking at someone who would be dealt with sooner or later.

The viper stood up from the chair.

He walked up to 037, squatted down, and looked him in the eye. Then he reached out, pinched 037's chin with his fingertips, and lifted his face slightly.

"Who's above you?" he repeated, his tone even softer than before.

037 looked at him and said, "My superiors are the Narcotics Control Division of the Public Security Bureau, above that is the Provincial Department, and above that—do you even deserve to know? You're just a drug dealer, what right do you have to ask this?"

The viper's fingers didn't apply pressure; they merely loosely pinched his chin, as if squeezing something uninteresting. "You're so tough because you think you can hold on? Or do you think your superiors will come to your rescue?"

037's lips twitched again, the smile widening, carrying an almost defiant nonchalance: "Whether they come to rescue me or not is unimportant. What's important is that you can't escape. Your line has been watched since the day I entered this world, so whether I live or die today is the same to me."

Viper released his jaw, stood up, took two steps back, and sat back down in his chair. He tilted his head slightly towards the two men standing in the corner, his tone soft: "Teach him how to talk."

The two men walked over. One grabbed 037's shoulder and pressed him to the ground, his face pressed against the cold cement floor. The other took an iron pipe from the wall and slowly flexed his wrist.

The first impact of the falling iron pipe struck 037's back with a dull thud, causing the entire warehouse to tremble.

037's body arched abruptly, a short, muffled groan escaping his throat, which he then bit down and swallowed back. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, leaving a small, damp patch on the concrete floor.

The second blow landed on his right shoulder, producing a dull thud that sent shivers down one's spine. 037's body convulsed violently, but he still didn't cry out.

The third, the fourth, and the fifth.

The viper sat in the chair, watching quietly.

After the two men finished fighting, he stood up, walked to 037, squatted down, grabbed his hair, and lifted his face off the ground.

"Are you willing to talk now?" Viper asked.

"Fuck your mother." 037's voice was hoarse and broken, but every word was enunciated clearly, spraying blood onto Viper's face. "Who the hell do you think you are? You're a drug dealer who's been hiding on the border for over a decade. What can you do besides bully the weak and fear the strong? You've been messing with me for so long just to get me to say 'I give up'? Dream on."

His voice grew increasingly hoarse, but his speech didn't slow down, as if he were pouring out all the pent-up emotions at this moment: "Do you know that people like you will get taken down sooner or later? Let me tell you, I'm not the first one to come in, and I won't be the last. You can kill me today, but someone else will come in tomorrow, and someone else the day after. Can you stop one, or a hundred? Every single one of the people under you is only after your money. Once you're out of money, they'll turn around and sell you out—do you believe me?"

The viper's face turned completely black.

He loosened 037's hair, stood up, and took two steps back.

"Beat them," he said. "Beat them to death. Just leave them breathing."

The two men who had been standing in the corner stepped forward again and raised the iron pipe once more.

The warehouse echoed again with dull thuds of hitting and bones snapping, mixed with suppressed groans and curses from deep within 037's throat. The curses grew weaker and more fragmented, but never completely ceased.