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

The viper leaned against the doorframe, its gaze lingering on the scorpion's face for a long while, as if trying to confirm something.

Then he reached out and patted Scorpion on the shoulder, his tone as casual as if he were assigning a routine chore: "Old Scorpion, this brat is yours to handle. You've been taking care of him for three months, wasting so much effort, it's time to clean up the mess yourself. Don't hold back. The Scorpion I know is ruthless."

Scorpion didn't speak. He stood at the door, his gaze fixed on Bai Ye curled up on the ground for a moment, before stepping inside.

He walked up to Bai Ye and squatted down.

Bai Ye raised his head, wanting to see his face clearly, wanting to find a flaw in that disgusted gaze—even just a slight one, even just an unnaturalness that he himself was unaware of.

He opened his mouth, and a few dry, incoherent sounds escaped his throat, as if he wanted to say something, as if he wanted to confirm one last time whether there was any real part to their three-month friendship.

Scorpion didn't give him a chance to speak. He reached out, spread his fingers, and grabbed Bai Ye's hair.

His fingers dug into Bai Ye's hair, clenching tightly as if he wanted to rip Bai Ye's scalp off. Then he pulled Bai Ye up from the ground, Bai Ye's body was pulled up in a half-kneeling position, his neck forced back, revealing the slightly bulging veins on the side of his neck due to pain and blood loss.

The next second, Scorpion punched Bai Ye in the stomach.

That punch was delivered without holding back. Unlike anything before, there was no delay, no observation, no gradual adjustment to the pain; it was a solid, all-out strike that could shatter a person from the inside.

Bai Ye felt as if his internal organs had been simultaneously crushed from the inside by an iron hammer. His stomach, intestines, liver, spleen—all his organs were compressed together in that instant, and then suddenly sprang back together.

His body was bent into an extreme bow shape, and a warm substance, mixed with stomach acid and blood, welled up in his throat and spilled from the corner of his mouth.

He was curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach with both hands, looking like a boiled shrimp.

He gagged several times, each time as if he were going to rip his stomach out of his throat, but nothing came out—his stomach had been emptied out, and even the last bit of gastric juice had been consumed in the previous torment.

He could only curl up there, making intermittent, bloody retching sounds. The whip marks on his back were stretched open by his curled-up body, and blood flowed down his spine.

Scorpion didn't stop. He bent down and grabbed Bai Ye's left arm, one hand gripping the wrist, the other the elbow, his knee pressing down on Bai Ye's upper arm. Then he exerted force—a crisp sound, like dry firewood being snapped, exploded in the narrow water prison.

Bai Ye's left arm was broken in reverse at the elbow joint, and the sound of the bones dislocating was so clear that it made one's teeth ache. The broken stump stood out under the skin in an abnormal arc.

Bai Ye's body convulsed violently. He opened his mouth, trying to make a sound, but he could only let out a very low groan, as if squeezed out from the bottom of his chest, before curling up even tighter.

The scorpion grabbed his right leg again. The same technique, the same relentless force—it gripped Bai Ye's ankle and knee, then twisted them sharply in the opposite direction.

A dull thud of dislocated bones accompanied Bai Ye's body as it arched violently and then fell back to the ground. His right leg was twisted to one side at an unnatural angle, and his knee was swollen, like a water-filled balloon.

Bai Ye's eyes were tightly closed, veins bulged on his forehead, and his back teeth were clenched so tightly they almost broke, but he still didn't make a sound.

Bai Ye lay curled up on the ground, too weak to move. His left arm was limp at his side, his right leg was bent, and the whip marks on his back were raw and bloody from the ground, blood still seeping from his fingertips. His breathing was shallow and slow, his eyelids heavy as if filled with lead, half-open as he stared at the blurry ground in front of him.

Viper stood by the doorframe, watching the entire process. His eyes gleamed slightly each time the scorpion exerted its strength.

He stepped forward, patted Scorpion on the shoulder, and said with a satisfied, relaxed tone, as if he had just passed an inspection: "Alright, alright, calm down. It's not worth getting angry over someone like him. You've taught him for three months; consider it feeding a dog."

Scorpion didn't answer. He shook off Viper's hand from his shoulder, turned, and strode towards the door.

As he walked out, he slammed the door shut behind him. The iron door slammed against the frame with a loud bang, shaking the entire water cell. The sound of his footsteps faded into the distance along the corridor, each step carrying an intense, suppressed rage and force, echoing for several seconds before slowly dissipating.

Viper didn't turn around to look at him. He stood in the center of the water prison, looking down at the curled-up figure on the ground, who was almost unconscious.

He watched for a while, then raised his foot and kicked Bai Ye in the side, sending him flying from the ground into the water dungeon next to him.

Bai Ye's body traced an arc in the air before plunging into the pool of cold, murky wastewater. Water splashed up, hitting the wall before falling back down.

His body sank slowly, as if swallowed by water. Wastewater rushed into his nostrils and mouth, filling his respiratory tract with a pungent smell of rust and some kind of rotting plant.

His limbs had no strength left to struggle; his left arm was crooked, his right leg was curled up, and the tips of his ten fingers were slightly spread in the water, like a flower that was withering.

His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and the light in his vision gradually shrank until only a small patch of fluorescent light above his head, distorted by the water's surface, remained, like looking at a star drifting away through a layer of shimmering water.

He felt himself sinking. He felt as if he were being embraced by a cold, soft darkness, and all the pain was slowly receding, like the tide receding into a more distant place.

He didn't want to struggle anymore, nor did he feel the need to struggle. He was exhausted. He just wanted to close his eyes and get a good night's sleep.

Just as he was about to sink completely to the bottom of the water, he felt his body rising upwards.

Someone is dragging him toward the shore.

He didn't know who it was, nor whether the other party was friend or foe.

All he knew was that he was exhausted, so exhausted that he didn't even have the strength to open his eyes and see who that person was. His eyelids closed heavily, and his consciousness seemed to be gently embraced by a tender hand, pushed towards a place without pain, cold, or fear.

His last sensation was that someone gently lifted his head so that the back of his head wouldn't hit the ground, and then he knew nothing more.