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

At 5 a.m. the next day, the lights in Group A's dormitory came on right on time.

When Xuanxiao sprang up from the top bunk, his head hit the ceiling with a dull thud. He clutched his forehead, grimacing as he fell back onto his pillow. It took him a full three seconds to remember where he was—the Breaking Sky Base, Group A dormitory, the top bunk on the right side of the door.

Bai Ye slept in the lower bunk.

Last night, as he lay down, he was thinking that Bai Ye was right below him, separated only by a metal bed frame, so close that he could hear the faint sound of the blankets rubbing together when he turned over. This thought kept him staring at the ceiling in the dark for a long time before the intense training gave him a merciless wake-up call.

"Five o'clock," he said, sitting on the edge of the upper bunk, his legs dangling and swinging. His voice was hoarse, as if he had just been violently dragged out of a dream. He looked down at the lower bunk and stared incredulously at the still dark sky outside the window. "Training at only five o'clock? I've never been this early at home—my old man is ruthless enough; the earliest he'll start is 5:30—"

Bai Ye had already sat up from his lower bunk. He was dressed neatly in his training uniform, his boots on the ground, and he was fast-paced and smooth as he tied his shoelaces, as if he had been awake for a long time.

Hearing Xuanxiao's complaint, he didn't even look up, and said indifferently, "You can continue sleeping."

"And then the class monitor threw you off the third floor?" Xuan Xiao grabbed the edge of the bed and tumbled down, his bare feet landing on the non-slip floor mat. When he landed, he deliberately took a small step closer to Bai Ye. "No, I still want to eat breakfast alive."

Shen Zhuo peeked out from the lower bunk opposite him, a smug look on his face that seemed to say, "What are we going to do if the first day is like this? You think you can sleep until you naturally wake up? This is Pokong, the new recruits. Naturally waking up is for resorts. Here, even your dreams have to follow the training syllabus."

Xie Ran tumbled down from Shen Zhuo's bunk, his hair standing on end as if it had been plowed by artillery fire. He rubbed his face, pulled out two individually wrapped compressed biscuits from under his pillow, put one in his mouth, and tossed the other to Bai Ye.

Bai Ye raised his hand and caught it steadily, unwrapped the package and took a bite. His movements were so natural that it was as if he and Xie Ran had repeated this feeding action hundreds of times—in fact, this was the first time.

Xuan Xiao looked at the cookie, then at Xie Ran, wondering why no one had thrown him a cookie on his first day on set.

At 5:10, all members of Group A had assembled downstairs in the dormitory building.

Li Mo stood at the front, glanced at everyone's attire and demeanor, and his gaze lingered for a moment on Xuan Xiao's collar, which was crooked—that glance made Xuan Xiao straighten his collar faster than he had ever done in his life—before turning around and walking towards the training ground.

The entire base awoke in the dim light of dawn. The streetlights were still on, and sporadic gunshots could be heard from the distant shooting range. On the main road between the dormitory building and the training ground, figures in training uniforms walked briskly from time to time. No one spoke, no one dawdled, and everyone's steps were accompanied by a highly mechanized efficiency.

The training ground was even more impressive than when they entered the base yesterday.

Before dawn had even crossed the eastern mountains, the entire training ground was brightly illuminated by high-powered floodlights. At least three groups were running weighted cross-country races on the track, while the rustling sound of barbed wire scraping against bodies drifted from the obstacle course. In the distance, the firing range echoed with the relentless, low beat of gunfire. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, gun oil, and the crisp, morning grass, all blending together to create a unique aroma that belonged solely to this base.

Xuan Xiao stood at the edge of the training ground, looking at the scale of training he had never seen before in the recruit company, a slight smile playing on his lips. He had grown up in the Xuan family and thought he had seen enough military training, but this scene still gave him the most immediate thought—these people were not training as recruits; they were preparing for war. This was not an exercise, not an assessment, but a real state of readiness to be deployed for a tough battle at any moment.

Lu Xiao glanced at him, as if she could see through his thoughts, and chuckled without saying anything.

Just as Group A was preparing to move toward the shooting training area, a figure strolled leisurely over from the direction of the runway.

The newcomer was Fu Qiu, the captain of Group B. He was lean and had a large, swaying shoulder as he walked, exuding a deliberately nonchalant air. Behind him were two members of Group B, one leaning against the horizontal bar by the track, and the other standing half a step behind him, both wearing identical expressions of anticipation.

He stopped in front of Group A, his gaze sweeping over Li Mo and Lu Xiao before landing on Bai Ye, a malicious smile slowly curving his lips.

"Hey, Group A really did take on a new recruit." Fu Qiu put his hands in his pockets, tilted his head, and sized up Bai Ye. "I heard you guys picked some promising recruits in basic training, and I thought you'd found some tough characters. How come you brought back a kid? With those skinny arms and legs, is he even an adult yet?"

Lu Xiao frowned. The usual smile on his face faded, his voice lowered by half an octave, and the casualness in his tone was replaced by a restrained warning: "Fujiu, do you know who he is?"

"I don't care who he is." Fu Qiu took a step forward and stood less than an arm's length away from Bai Ye.

He was a head taller than Bai Ye, and his gaze as he looked down at Bai Ye carried an undisguised frivolity. The corners of his mouth widened, and his voice became soft and low, as if sharing a joke meant only for the two of them. "You're quite clean-cut, much more pleasing to the eye than those roughnecks in our base. Little brother, what kind of offer did the guys in Group A make for you? You can come to Group B, I'll show you around—"

Xie Ran took a step forward, his expression shifting from lingering morning grumpiness to a more dangerous rage, his voice forced out through clenched teeth: "What did you say?"

"Did I say something wrong? Your Group A took in such a beauty, and it's just—" Fu Qiu shrugged, "...just for fun?"

A muffled thud.

The stainless steel kettle in Li Mo's hand had turned into a lump of scrap metal. Water seeped from the twisted kettle, trickling down his knuckles. His expression remained unchanged, but the chill emanating from him instantly silenced this corner of the training ground.

Fujiu's gaze shifted to Li Mo, and the curve of her lips froze for a moment.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, but before he could utter a word, Li Mo had already appeared in front of him. No one saw how Li Mo moved—one frame he was still standing beside Bai Ye, the next his right hand was already gripping Fu Qiu's neck, the speed was so fast it was as if all the transition frames in between had been directly ripped away.

The duck's back slammed heavily against the horizontal bar pillar beside the track, the metal pipe making a loud bang that startled several people doing pull-ups nearby, causing them to stop.

Li Mo tightened his grip, his thumb pressing against Fu Qiu's Adam's apple, while his other four fingers gripped the back of his neck with precise force—just enough to suffocate him without killing him.

Fujiu's heels were already off the ground, and he was lifted up by one hand and hung on the horizontal bar post. He grabbed Li Mo's wrists with both hands and tried to pry them open, but Li Mo's fingers didn't budge, as if they were welded to his neck.