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

The seventh day of camp, Sunday.

For the first time ever, the recruit training company did not arrange any training.

After breakfast, the playground was filled with people in twos and threes.

A week of intense training had taken its toll on these new recruits, and on this rare day when they didn't have to run, stand at attention, or fold blankets, they let loose like ducks released from their cages. Some stretched and chatted by the track, some leaned against the horizontal bar and boasted, and some used the area under the basketball hoop as a base, crumpling their jackets into balls and throwing them into the basket.

Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo were practicing the few moves they had learned in their martial arts class on the open space in the middle of the playground. Zhao Xiaohu assumed a horse stance, his round face taut, and threw a punch, which Qian Duoduo dodged by tilting his head. Qian Duoduo reached out to grab his arm, lost her footing, and the two of them tumbled onto the grass.

"You cheated!" Zhao Xiaohu got up from the ground, his hair covered with a bunch of grass clippings.

"Whose fault is it if you can't stand up?" Qian Duoduo patted the dirt off his bottom and reached out to pull Zhao Xiaohu up.

"Let's do it again! This time I'm serious!"

Zhao Xiaohu straightened his stance and got into position when he caught a glimpse of a car driving in from the direction of the camp gate.

The dark green military off-road vehicle was splattered with dried mud, its wheels covered in a thick layer of reddish-brown dirt, and the windshield had several cracks caused by flying gravel. Two camouflage waterproof bags were strapped to the roof, and the rear window was half-open, revealing some equipment boxes piled inside.

The car came to a stop beside the playground, and the driver's side door opened first.

A stocky man with a buzz cut, a square face, and tanned skin jumped down, revealing an old scar on his left eyebrow. His boots thudded as he landed on the concrete, and he stretched lazily, his bones cracking repeatedly.

"Damn it, I'm finally back."

The passenger door opened, and a man with a buzz cut stepped out. He had a square face, broad shoulders, and arms that made the sleeves of his training uniform bulge. When he jumped out of the car, he exuded a solid, resolute presence, like a moving wall. He turned around, grabbed two bottles of water from his seat, and tossed one toward the driver's seat.

The back door was pushed open from the inside, and a third veteran jumped out. He also had a standard buzz cut, a short, thick neck, and chest muscles that clearly outlined his training uniform. He had a burn scar on his left forearm, running from his wrist to his elbow. He slung a bulging equipment bag over his shoulder, the bag making a metallic clanging sound as it hit the ground.

He squinted at the noisy new recruits on the parade ground and grinned.

"Hey, green recruit."

The volume wasn't loud, but everyone on the playground heard it.

Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo's sparring session immediately stopped. The guys stretching their legs by the track also stopped. The braggart under the horizontal bar shut up. The guy under the basketball hoop caught his crumpled jacket.

All the recruits' eyes turned to him, filled with the eagerness of new recruits.

Zhao Xiaohu had already run over.

He still ran with that same round, chubby gait, his belly jiggling with each step, but surprisingly, he wasn't slow. When he reached the three veterans, he stopped, looked up, and his round face was filled with admiration.

"Squad leader! Did you just get back from a mission?"

The man with the scar on his brow looked down at him and smiled. With that smile, the scar on his brow curved slightly, and his fierce aura softened considerably.

"Yes, I just got back. What's your name?"

"Reporting, squad leader, my name is Zhao Xiaohu! A new recruit in squad one!"

"Class One." He glanced back at his two companions, then turned back and patted Zhao Xiaohu on the head. "My name is Zheng Dayong. The one with the square face is He Rui, and the one carrying the bag is Sun Lei."

The two people whose names were called nodded to Zhao Xiaohu. He Rui, who was unscrewing his water bottle and drinking, waved at him with one hand free. Sun Lei slammed his equipment bag on the ground, the bottom of the bag hitting the concrete with a dull thud; it was clear that it contained more than just clothes.

"What have you guys been practicing this week?" Sun Lei asked casually, dusting off his hands.

Zhao Xiaohu immediately perked up, counting on his fingers: "Folding blankets, standing at attention, marching in formation, and I even learned a few basic combat moves!"

"That's all?"

That's all!

Sun Lei smiled, a smile that carried the characteristic nonchalant goodwill of a veteran towards new recruits. He crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the new recruits who had gathered around him. Their spirits were indeed impressive; after only a week in the army, they hadn't been worn down by training, and their eyes still shone brightly.

Then his gaze settled on the periphery of the crowd.

Two new recruits stood at the very edge, not moving closer. One had black hair and skin so white it was a shade different from everyone else's; his features were so refined they seemed out of place in a military camp. The other had gray hair and was a head taller than him, his posture exuding a lazy, relaxed air, but he was positioned just half a step to the right front of the black-haired boy, blocking most of the physical contact from the crowd pushing in.

Sun Lei looked away, clapped his hands, and drew the new recruits' attention.

"It's no fun just talking, let's see."

Zhao Xiaohu's eyes lit up: "What are we competing in?"

Sun Lei shrugged. These guys had only been in the army for a week, hadn't even touched a gun, had only learned the basics of combat, and struggled to even run three kilometers. Comparing them to those was pointless; it was just bullying kids.

"Let's fold the blankets."

Several new recruits nearby started making unintelligible noises. Zhao Xiaohu's expression went through a series of changes in an instant, from excitement to stiffness and then to some subtle shift; his round eyes rolled around.

"Fold the blankets?"

"What, you're not happy about it?"

"No, no!" Zhao Xiaohu waved his hands repeatedly, his smile becoming exceptionally bright, so bright that Qian Duoduo, who knew him well, subconsciously took a half step back.

Zhao Xiaohu took a step forward, looking up at Sun Lei with a grin.

"Squad Leader Sun, how about we make a bet?"

Sun Lei looked down at the round face, his eyebrows slowly rising. He'd been in the army for four years, and this was the first time a new recruit had challenged him. Zheng Dayong whistled from behind, and He Rui took the water bottle away from his mouth, smiling as he looked over.

"What are we betting on?"

"The loser has to answer one question for the winner." Zhao Xiaohu held up one finger, his round face unusually serious. "Any question will do, but you must tell the truth."

Sun Lei stared at him for two seconds.

"OK."

He stretched out his hand.

Zhao Xiaohu slapped his palm hard.

"Just wait!"

Then he turned around and ran towards the other end of the parade ground. The crowd automatically made way for him, and all the eyes of the new recruits and veterans followed his chubby back.

Zhao Xiaohu ran and shouted, his voice so loud that it could be heard throughout the entire playground.

"Brother Ye—Brother Xiao—"