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

After completing their identity registration at the main building, Lu Xiao led the four of them across the training ground in the center of the base and toward the living area.

The sky had completely darkened, and the streetlights in the base lit up one by one, casting a cold, white glow on the concrete road. In the distance, sporadic gunfire could be heard from the shooting range, along with commands coming from a building, rising and falling like the breathing of the base.

Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo walked at the very back of the group.

Since stepping into the base, they have recovered somewhat from their initial shock—at least their legs are no longer shaking.

Lu Xiao walked at the front of the group, thinking as he went. He thought for a long time.

Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo's recruit assessment scores were above average, which would be considered good prospects in an ordinary company, but they wouldn't even get close to meeting the selection criteria of Pokong.

Every field team member here has undergone at least three rounds of elimination screening, and the casualty rate during the entry assessment is never zero. Directly pulling these two people into the combat sequence is tantamount to sending them to their deaths.

Zhao Xiaohu is quite bold, but his reactions are always a beat slow. Qian Duoduo has solid theoretical knowledge, but he is prone to panic in the face of adversity. On the battlefield, being a beat slow or panicking once is enough to get you killed.

When he reached the fork in the road in the living area, Lu Xiao stopped. The road branched into three paths: the left led to the logistics team and supply station, the middle to the field dormitory building, and the right to the headquarters building. He turned around to face Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo.

"You two," Lu Xiao's tone was at least a notch more serious than usual, "come with me to the supply depot."

Zhao Xiaohu's expression instantly shifted from curiosity to wariness. "A supply station? What's that for?"

"They're in charge of the food. In the Broken Sky, they don't call it a cooking squad, they call it a supply depot." Lu Xiao, hands in his pockets, unusually serious, spoke without joking. "The supply depot is responsible for the food standards, nutritional ratios, and the packaging and delivery of battlefield rations for all field personnel. A good supply officer can ensure that a combat team doesn't lose weight, doesn't lack micronutrients, and isn't affected in combat effectiveness due to diet during high-intensity missions. This isn't a demotion, it's a job reassignment. If your physical fitness and tactical skills were assigned to the field team, you wouldn't come back alive from the first mission. I don't want to write death reports for you after the first mission, understand?"

Zhao Xiaohu opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to say something in rebuttal, but Qian Duoduo pressed down on his shoulder. Qian Duoduo understood the weight of Lu Xiao's words even earlier than Zhao Xiaohu.

He looked at Lu Xiao's expression—no smile, no sarcasm, just stating the facts, telling them his judgment in the most straightforward way. He nodded.

"Understood," Qian Duoduo said. Zhao Xiaohu's face still showed resentment, but after glancing at Qian Duoduo and then at Lu Xiao's unusually serious face, he finally shut his mouth.

Turn left at the fork in the road, and after two turns, you'll reach the supply station.

Lu Xiao pushed open the door, and a wave of heat and the aroma of food rushed towards him at the same time.

A burly, bald man sat on a stool next to the kitchen counter, with a well-worn notebook open in front of him and a pen in his hand, writing something.

He looked to be in his early forties, with bulging veins on his arms from years of wok-tossing, and his apron stained with a dark red stain that looked like ketchup or something else.

Hearing the door open, he looked up, his gaze sweeping over Lu Xiao before settling on the two new recruits behind Lu Xiao, his brows furrowing.

"Lu Xiao." The bald man's voice was rough, like scraping the bottom of a frying pan. "Are you delivering ingredients, or...?"

Zhao Xiaohu took a step back, his back colliding directly with Qian Duoduo's chest. Qian Duoduo wasn't much better off—his face turned deathly pale, his fingers gripped Zhao Xiaohu's sleeve tightly, and his lips trembled as he managed to squeeze out a sentence only Zhao Xiaohu could hear: "Po Kong—it's not really eating people, is it?"

The bald man had clearly heard him. He put down his pen and grinned. The smile wasn't big, but combined with the deep red stain on his apron, it was incredibly effective.

Lu Xiao rubbed his temples helplessly. "Old Zhou, don't scare the kids." He turned to look at Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo, his tone not exactly gentle but more patient than usual. "Master Zhou is the head of the supply station. He's been working here for over ten years, and he does nothing but cook. That's ketchup on his apron; he used it to make lasagna yesterday. Cannibalism—what do you think we are, some kind of monster cave from Journey to the West?"

Qian Duoduo swallowed, and the color slowly returned to her face.

Bald Old Zhou stood up, walked over to Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo, looked them up and down, and nodded. His scrutinizing gaze didn't seem like he was examining two useless recruits; it was more like he was looking at two unripe vegetables.

"You two," he pointed at Zhao Xiaohu, "what's your name?"

"Zhao Xiaohu—"

"Can you chop vegetables?"

"Won't."

"Come to the operating room at five o'clock tomorrow morning, and I'll teach you. What about you?" He turned to Qian Duoduo.

"I have a lot of money. I can—a little bit. I've helped my mom cut potatoes at home."

"You can cut potatoes, that'll be enough." Old Zhou patted Qian Duoduo's shoulder, his thick hand pressing down on the already nervous Qian Duoduo by at least two centimeters. "The supply station doesn't have that many rules. Just one thing—the food can't be wrong. The field crew will complain if they come back from a mission and the food isn't good. You guys get familiar with the environment first. The dormitory is behind the operations room, two-person rooms, the beds are already made. You'll start learning from me tomorrow."

Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo, carrying backpacks, were led by Lao Zhou into the corridor behind the control room.

Zhao Xiaohu took a few steps and then turned back to look at Bai Ye and Xuan Xiao. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something—thank you? goodbye? don't go? In the end, he didn't say anything, but simply raised his hand in a salute. The gesture wasn't standard, but it was very forceful.

Qian Duoduo also offered a toast. Lu Xiao returned their toast with a lazy wave.

After settling Zhao Xiaohu and Qian Duoduo in, Lu Xiao led Bai Ye and Xuan Xiao back the way they came, crossing the main road of the residential area and heading towards the field dormitory building. The three walked under the streetlights, their shadows stretching long and short on the ground.

Xuan Xiao didn't say much along the way.

Bai Ye walked beside Lu Xiao, his steps as steady as usual, but his eyes were also silently scanning the surrounding environment.

He could sense that the layout of this base was very similar to the mercenary camps he had worked in in his previous life, but it was larger, more organized, and better equipped. After searching for clues for so long, he finally stood at its entrance.

The field dormitory building is a gray building with no decoration on the exterior walls. The windows are all uniform, and each window is fitted with the same style of dark curtains.

Lu Xiao pushed open the door and led the two up to the third floor.

The corridor was covered with dark gray non-slip flooring, and on both sides were uniform dormitory doors, each with a slot for a numbered tag. Some doors were closed, and some were half-open, from which the sounds of card games or the static of a radio could be heard. A faint smell of gun oil mingled with the scents of laundry detergent and leather in the air.

The three stopped in the middle of the third-floor corridor. Lu Xiao turned around and faced a dormitory door that was different from all the other doors. The number plate on the door had the letter A printed on it.

"This is it," Lu Xiao said.