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

Just then, footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.

Scorpion emerged from the passageway on the side of the main courtyard, as if he had just returned from inspecting the warehouse. He paused at the edge of the courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the curled-up body on the ground, then over Bai Ye, who was squatting to the side, still holding an empty syringe.

The morning light shone on his profile, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

He strode over, his pace slightly quicker than before, and stopped in front of Bai Ye. Then he reached out, fingers spread, and grabbed Bai Ye by the neck.

Scorpion's gaze fell on the empty syringe, then returned to Bai Ye's face. His voice was very low, so low that only the two of them could hear: "You changed the medicine."

Bai Ye was being choked, making it difficult for him to breathe. Air could only squeeze through the gaps in his compressed trachea with difficulty, and each inhale was accompanied by a faint hissing sound.

But his gaze didn't waver; it remained fixed on Scorpion's face as he forced out a hoarse voice from his suppressed throat: "...You know?"

Scorpion's fingers didn't loosen, the strength as steady as a calibrated machine, his voice as calm as stating a confirmed fact, devoid of any emotion: "The color and texture of that bottle are almost identical to the medicine Viper gave you. The only difference is that it has a very faint blue sheen under light, while Viper's is pure dark red and doesn't have that reflection."

Bai Ye's expression showed no sign of panic.

Although his breathing was labored, his gaze remained calm and composed, as if he had long anticipated this scene would unfold, it was only a matter of time: "So what do you plan to do? Hand me over to Viper?"

Scorpion looked down at him. His gaze lingered on Bai Ye's face for several seconds, as if he were examining a tightly wrapped shipment, ready to be unpacked and inspected. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched very slightly, carrying a hint of amusement and helplessness.

"Give it to him? You want me to give you to him?" He released his grip, took a half step back, put his hands back in his pockets, and his tone returned to its usual nonchalant casualness. "I've waited until now, what do you think I've done for?"

After being released, Bai Ye took a deep breath, the air rushing into his blocked trachea, filling his lungs with the cool, damp morning air.

He bent over, hands on his knees, panting heavily for several seconds, his chest heaving. Several light red finger marks were visible on the side of his neck, stark against his pale skin. It took him a while to straighten up, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. His voice was still a little hoarse, but it had returned to its usual steady tone.

"So what do you want to do?"

Scorpion didn't answer immediately; he had already squatted down in front of 037. He reached out to check the pulse on the side of his neck, then pried open his eyelids to look at his pupils—the pupils were still contracting very weakly, indicating that the drug was taking effect and the process of feigning death had just begun, but he had not yet fully entered a deep hibernation state.

"I want to see how far you can go." Scorpion didn't turn his head, his gaze fixed on the still slightly trembling eyeball. "You've been acting since the first day you came in, for two months now. Viper didn't see through it, his henchmen didn't see through it, even Old Cat was fooled by you. Today, you switched the medicine right under his nose, replacing a dose of deadly poison with a fake death potion, putting on a great show in front of everyone. You're bold enough, your methods are swift enough, and your reactions are quick enough. It's rare to find someone who can play along with me to this extent. If I hand you over now, there'll be no more entertainment to watch."

Bai Ye stood behind him, watching his fingers press against 037's neck. She remained silent for a moment, as if processing all the information in his words: "So what do we do now?"

Scorpion didn't answer. He took a small bottle out of his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and waved it under 037's nose.

A pungent ammonia smell exploded in the air. 037's body jerked violently, as if he had been electrocuted. He bounced up and crashed back to the ground, then began to cough violently, curling up into a ball as if he had been pulled ashore from underwater, his trachea filled with a large amount of air and dust.

The next second, his body suddenly curled up.

The severe withdrawal symptoms came without warning, like a wild beast trapped in a cage suddenly breaking through the bars.

His limbs began to twitch uncontrollably, his jaw clenched so tightly that it made a grinding sound, and a layer of cold sweat instantly poured out of his forehead. He curled up into a ball, clutching his chest with both hands, his fingernails digging into his flesh, leaving several bloody scratches below his ribs.

His shoulder and back muscles spasmed alternately, his spine arched up and then slammed back down, and the back of his head hit the concrete floor with a dull thud.

His breathing became rapid and shallow, each gasp a hoarse sound as if he were being choked, saliva mixed with blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. He began to mutter to himself, the words indistinct, but each syllable sounding as if it were being forcibly ripped from the depths of his throat.

"It's happening again...it's happening again..." His voice trembled. "I can't take it anymore...I really can't take it anymore...kill me...please...give me a quick death...kill me..."

His body rolled on the concrete floor, the old and new wounds on his back chafed raw and bloody, but he could no longer feel them, because what was happening inside his body was far more intense than any external injury.

His fingers dug into the cracks in the rubble, his nails split, and his fingertips were covered in blood, but he kept digging, as if he were grabbing onto something to keep himself from sinking.

"Last night...last night I had a dream..." He suddenly paused for half a second, his pupils unfocused as he stared at the sky above, a trace of saliva mixed with blood hanging from the corner of his mouth. "I dreamt that I went home...my wife was cooking...my son was doing his homework...he looked up and called me Dad...he said, 'Dad, you're back...'"

His voice suddenly choked, and a whimper escaped his throat as if it had been cut off. Then he began to convulse again, more violently than before, his whole body rolling, curling up, and stretching on the ground like a fish thrown ashore.

"I can't go back..." His voice grew weaker and weaker, as if he were talking to himself, or perhaps to Bai Ye, "I knew I couldn't go back a long time ago... From the moment the first injection was administered... my life was over..."

Bai Ye stood two steps away, looking down at him. The morning light shone from the side, illuminating half of his face while the other half remained in shadow.

He looked at her for a while before speaking, his voice not loud, but every word was clear: "I can help you escape."