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

Two months is neither a long nor a short time.

Bai Ye's right arm had its splint removed in the sixth week. After reviewing the X-ray, the military doctor remained silent for half a minute before finally saying, "The healing speed is at least three weeks faster than expected."

The training intensity in the recruit company was increased to the maximum level over these two months. The armed cross-country run was increased from five kilometers to ten kilometers, the rifle shooting training time was increased from twenty minutes to forty minutes, and the distance of tactical crawling was doubled.

Bai Ye and Xuan Xiao's names have been at the top two of the various achievement lists since the first month, like two nails firmly planted on them. They occasionally switch places, but they always occupy the top two positions.

Then came the new recruit assessment.

On the morning of the assessment, before dawn, the class monitors of each class started banging on their bed boards.

Lu Xiao leaned against the door, a candy dangling from his mouth. Unusually, he wasn't grinning. He simply said, "Everyone, stay alert. The instructors coming today aren't from our camp."

The assessment site is located in the comprehensive training ground on the west side of the camp. This site is not usually open to the public and is only used for year-end assessments or inspections by superiors.

After the recruits lined up outside the training ground, Company Commander Zhou stood at the front of the line, next to a person whom no one recognized.

The man looked to be in his early thirties. He wasn't very tall, but he had broad shoulders and a thick back. He stood there like an iron stake driven into the water—completely still, his center of gravity sinking to his feet.

"My surname is Zheng, you can call me Instructor Zheng." His voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be forced out from his throat, without any unnecessary intonation. "I'm in charge of the recruit assessment. I don't know you, and I don't care about your usual grades. The assessment standards are fixed; you either meet them or you don't. There's no room for leniency."

No one spoke in the queue. Zhao Xiaohu swallowed hard, the sound of his Adam's apple bobbing clearly audible even to himself.

"The assessment items will proceed in turn. Those whose names are called should step forward, while the rest remain in place."

The first few events proceeded in sequence—a three-kilometer armed cross-country run, a rifle stability test, and basic tactical maneuvers. Results were announced one by one, and the numbers on the scoreboard kept updating.

In the 3km armed cross-country run, Xuanxiao came in first with a time of 10 minutes and 3 seconds. Baiye came in second with a time of 11 minutes and 9 seconds. According to the gun stability test, Baiye came in first with a muzzle displacement of less than 3 millimeters. Xuanxiao came in second with a displacement of 4 millimeters. In the basic tactical maneuvers, Baiye came in first with zero errors throughout. Xuanxiao came in second, but lost 0.5 points because his toe brushed against a horizontal bar while vaulting over an obstacle.

Zhao Xiaohu stood in the queue looking at the scoreboard and nudged Qian Duoduo with his elbow: "Do you think they planned this? One of them gets first place and the other gets second, taking turns."

Qian Duoduo rolled her eyes at him: "Have you ever seen anyone agree to control the time difference to within a fraction of a second or millimeter?"

Zhao Xiaohu thought about it and realized it made sense, so he shut his mouth.

Pull-ups were the last exercise of the day. The horizontal bar was located on the west side of the training field, with a steel bar three centimeters in diameter running between two pillars, just high enough for an adult to jump and reach. The bar was slightly warm from being gripped by previous test takers, reflecting a dim light in the sunlight.

Instructor Zheng stood next to the horizontal bar, holding the assessment record board in his hand, his tone as cold and hard as at the beginning.

"Pull-ups. Standard form—overhand grip, arms fully extended, chin over the bar counts as one pull-up. Using momentum, swinging, or failing to clear the bar with the chin will not be counted." He finished reading the assessment standards, then glanced at the recruits in front of him. "Twelve are considered excellent. I heard your batch of recruits did quite well? Let's begin, don't waste time."

The new recruits took turns getting on the bar. Most scores ranged from eight to eleven, with one or two managing exactly twelve. After landing, they were panting heavily, their arms shaking so badly they could barely hold their water bottles. Zhao Xiaohu did ten, and Qian Duoduo did nine—his arm strength had always been a weakness, and he was quite satisfied with reaching the good mark.

Then there's Xuanxiao.

He walked to the bottom of the horizontal bar, glanced up at the bar, and then jumped up lightly, his hands gripping the bar with perfect shoulder width. The lines of his arms had been sculpted more clearly by the high-intensity training over the past two months, the muscles from his wrists to his shoulders taut and smooth under his sun-tanned skin.

Extend both arms straight and open your shoulder blades. Then pull.

The first six repetitions were performed with a steady rhythm and even speed, as if a speed regulator was installed. The speed slowed down slightly from the seventh to the tenth repetition, but every movement was still so standard that it could be used as a textbook example—the chin steadily passed over the bar, and the arms were fully extended when they were lowered, without any cutting corners.

Eleventh. The movements began to slow down, the arm muscles tensed to the point of trembling slightly, but the chin still made it over the bar.

The twelfth. He paused for a moment at the top, his chin resting steadily above the bar, before slowly lowering himself down.

Then he let go and landed.

Instructor Zheng looked down and drew a line on the record board, "Twelve. Next."

Xuan Xiao stepped aside, crossed his hands and moved them, his palms red from being pressed against the bar, and glanced in Bai Ye's direction.

Bai Ye stood in the queue looking at the horizontal bar, his expression calm, showing no tension or worry. But Xuan Xiao knew about his right arm—the splint had only been removed two weeks ago, and he had done rehabilitation exercises, but the bone still needed time to fully heal. Pull-ups require too much strength from the entire upper limb, and people who have fractured their right arm are at a disadvantage in this sport.

"Bai Ye," Instructor Zheng called out his name.

Bai Ye walked to the bottom of the horizontal bar. He jumped up lightly like Xuan Xiao, gripping the bar with both hands. As he exerted force, he felt an uncomfortable pulling sensation in his right arm—not pain, but the dullness of tissue that had just healed from an injury being stretched to its limit. He paused for two seconds on the bar, feeling the feedback in his right arm, and then began to pull.

The first one was smooth. The second one was stable. The third one was a chin over the bar. The fourth one was that the movement started to slow down. The fifth one—his right arm trembled slightly at the highest point of the pull, not because he lacked strength, but because of an unpleasant ache coming from the fracture site. He controlled his body to lower down, landing on his feet.

"Five." Instructor Zheng drew a line on the board and then put the pen down.

He looked up at Bai Ye, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.

"Your scores are all at the top. And then, can you do five pull-ups?"

Bai Ye looked at him. "I can explain—"