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

Xuan Xiao stepped out of the queue and paused for a moment as he passed Zhao Xiaohu.

He glanced at Zhao Xiaohu, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Pull the pin, grenade in hand—I could never learn that maneuver in my whole life."

Zhao Xiaohu raised his head to refute, but Xuan Xiao had already walked past.

Xuanxiao stood on the grenade throwing line and picked up a grenade from the ammunition box. His movements were devoid of any unnecessary frills—gripping the grenade, pulling the pin, turning to the side, and swinging his arm. The entire sequence of movements was fluid and seamless, with the chain of power flowing from the soles of his feet to his fingertips. The rotation of his waist and hips drove his shoulders, which in turn drove his upper arms, which then drove his forearms. Finally, all the power converged at his wrist, and at the instant the grenade left his hand, he completed a textbook-perfect whip-like throw.

The target reporter poked his head out of the target trench, glanced at the landing point, raised the flag, and announced a number.

Sixty-five meters.

The bombing range fell silent for a moment, then an uncontrollable commotion erupted in the ranks.

Sixty-five meters—this achievement exceeds the excellent standard for new recruits by a full two and a half meters.

"Sixty-five?" Qian Duoduo suddenly looked up, forgetting that she was still being punished by standing, her mouth agape enough to fit a fist. "Did he throw a grenade like a cannonball?"

A new recruit from the third squad, who usually didn't get along with Xuan Xiao, stared at him for a long time before finally managing to utter, "Monster."

The word spread through the queue like ripples. First, a few people in Class 3 whispered, "They're monsters," then someone from Class 2 chimed in, "Those two in Class 1 are monsters too," and finally even the clerk in charge of recording the grades couldn't help but look up at Xuan Xiao again.

Xuanxiao retreated to the side of the queue, not rushing back to his own position.

He stood not far from Bai Ye, his hand that had just thrown the grenade tucked into his pocket, his posture casual, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He didn't speak, but his body language spoke volumes—sixty-five meters, did you see that? Your partner threw it sixty-five meters.

Then Company Commander Zhou read out the next name.

"white night."

Bai Ye stepped out of the line. As he passed Xuan Xiao, Xuan Xiao lightly nudged him with his shoulder, a tiny movement so subtle that no one around noticed, his voice low and gentle: "Good luck."

Bai Ye hummed in agreement, but didn't stop walking.

He walked to the bombing line and stretched his right shoulder and elbow.

The fracture site is in better condition today than yesterday. When the military doctor checked it this morning, he said that the callus has basically stabilized, but the explosive power of the upper limb has not fully recovered.

Grenade throwing requires the release of maximum force in an extremely short time, subjecting the entire kinetic chain from the upper limbs to the core to the lower limbs to an instantaneous high-intensity load. Could the fractured area of ​​the right arm withstand this impact?

He stood in front of the bombing line, his brow furrowing slightly.

His gaze swept from the bombing area to the target area, and he went through the parameters of the entire throwing space in his mind—the distance from the bombing line to the target area, the wind speed, the weight of the projectile, and the optimal throwing angle.

Bai Ye picked up a grenade from the ammunition box.

He didn't use the standard whip-like throwing technique like Xuanxiao—that technique puts too much strain on the right arm.

He chose a throwing method that relies more on core rotation. He gripped the grenades in his right hand, turned his body to the side, aligned his left shoulder with the target, pushed off the ground, rotated his hips, and swung his arm. His whole body was like a spring that had been tightened and then suddenly released, with the power transmitted from the soles of his feet along his legs, waist, back, and shoulders to his wrists.

The moment the projectile left his hand, he felt a dull, aching pain in his right arm.

The target marker poked his head out and raised the flag. Fifty-five meters.

Someone in the queue started doing calculations quietly.

Sixty-five meters was first place, a new recruit from Class Two threw fifty-six meters and came in second, and Bai Ye threw fifty-five meters and came in third. Class One had two in the top three—this result was enough to make Class One proud.

But everyone knew in their hearts that Bai Ye had only recently had his splint removed and had achieved this result using his right hand, which wasn't fully recovered. If his right arm were intact, if his strength hadn't been affected by the fracture, what would that number be? Sixty? Sixty-five? Or even higher? No one dared to guess.

Bai Ye stared at the 55-meter target flag, his expression unchanged. He turned and walked back to the formation, his right arm hanging at his side, his fingers slightly opening and closing to confirm that there were no abnormalities at the fracture site.

Xuan Xiao was already waiting there. He had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly back, and the corners of his mouth turned up, exuding an aura of "I'm waiting for you to praise me".

Bai Ye stopped in front of him and glanced at him.

Xuan Xiao raised an eyebrow without speaking, but the gesture conveyed the unspoken message perfectly—65 meters, first place, aren't you going to do something about it?

Bai Ye looked away and continued walking forward.

Xuan Xiao's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly followed. He took something out of his pocket and stuffed it into Bai Ye's hand.

Bai Ye looked down—and there lay a piece of candy in his palm. Blueberry flavored.

Bai Ye's fingers unconsciously tightened, holding the candy in his palm. Then he looked up at Xuan Xiao, his lips moved as if weighing whether to speak, and finally squeezed out two words from his throat.

"good."

"Just 'not bad'?" His tone carried a deliberately understated yet increasingly arrogant undertone. "I came in first place. Sixty-five meters. And you only give me two words?"

Bai Ye had already put the candy into his training uniform pocket. He stared blankly ahead, his tone returning to its usual indifferent manner: "What else do you want?"

"Couldn't you at least add an adjective? 'Exceptionally good'? 'Very good'? 'As expected of my partner'?"

"Very good," Bai Ye said, his tone flat, as if he were being forced to read aloud from a textbook.

Xuanxiao was satisfied.

He turned back and stood next to Bai Ye, with less than a fist's distance between their shoulders.

Zhao Xiaohu watched Xuan Xiao's expression from afar while he was being punished by standing, then turned to Qian Duoduo and whispered, "Brother Xiao looks even more smug than the dog in my hometown that won first place in the village's watchdog competition."

Qian Duoduo glanced at it, nodded solemnly, and then added, "Don't let him hear you say that, or he'll throw you into the infirmary during the next combat training session."

Zhao Xiaohu immediately made a zipping motion over his mouth.

Lu Xiao stood on the sidelines, watching everything unfold. He didn't say anything, only a slight smile played on his lips.

Li Mo stood on the other side of the bombing zone, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Xuan Xiao and Bai Ye before settling on the record board. His expression remained unchanged; his pen paused briefly on the paper before he continued writing down a line of data.

Bai Ye reached into his pocket, his fingertips touching the plastic wrapper of the blueberry candy. He didn't take it out to eat, but simply squeezed it gently between his fingers, feeling the subtle sound the wrapper made between his fingertips.