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

The dagger grazed Bai Ye's neck, less than two centimeters from his carotid artery. Before the shrill sound of the blade tearing through the air had even faded, Bai Ye had already turned his head to dodge, pushed off the ground with his toes, and taken a half-step back, sending pebbles flying beneath his shoes.

The strike missed its mark, and the man in black twisted his waist, swinging his left fist horizontally towards Bai Ye's temple. The fist whistled through the air, its speed so fast that it produced a muffled thud.

Bai Ye raised his arm to block, forearm against forearm, bone against bone, like two steel pipes colliding in an alley. Bai Ye felt his entire left arm go numb from the shock, and the nerves from his thumb to his shoulder screamed simultaneously.

He used the momentum to take another half step back, his back almost touching the wall deep in the alley.

"Is that all the strength you've got?" The voice of the man in black came from behind the mask, hoarse and contemptuous, echoing through the narrow alley. "Where did that ruthlessness you showed this afternoon at the training ground, gouging out people's eyes? Hmm? That Bai Ye who crippled Fu Qiu in one move, how come he's now just hiding like a rabbit?"

Bai Ye did not answer.

He pressed himself against the wall, adjusting his breathing in the darkness, lowering his center of gravity by two inches, his feet one in front of the other, knees slightly bent—a standard fighting stance.

The man in black moved again. He had no intention of giving the boy any chance to breathe, unleashing three consecutive strikes, each faster and more ruthless than the last.

The first slash was a diagonal cut, the blade slicing across Bai Ye's chest. Bai Ye pulled back, the blade tip tearing through the fabric of his training uniform, leaving a shallow line of blood on his chest. The second slash was a reverse upward thrust, aimed straight for his throat. Bai Ye dodged to the side, the blade grazing his jaw and shaving off a wisp of hair from his forehead. The third slash was a straight thrust, aimed directly for his heart. Bai Ye had no way to avoid it and could only brace himself with his shoulder. The blade tip pierced the flesh below his collarbone with a hiss, blood instantly soaking the shoulder fabric of his training uniform.

Bai Ye groaned softly, gritting his teeth to keep himself from making any louder noise.

But the man in black didn't give him a chance to catch his breath. A knee strike followed, hitting his abdomen. Bai Ye felt as if his stomach had been hit by a lead ball. He bent over like a bow, his back slamming heavily against the wall. A metallic taste rose in his throat, and a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

"Weren't you pretty ruthless when you were gouging out people's eyes?" The man in black flicked the blood off his dagger, splattering it on the wall. He tilted his head and approached the boy pressed against the wall step by step, his pace unhurried, as if enjoying the dying struggle of his prey. "What, your captain's not around, and you've gone soft? When he was protecting you, you were quite the tyrant—choking people, pinning them to the ground and beating them, gouging out their eyes alive—what can you do without him?"

Bai Ye leaned against the wall to stand up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"You talk too much," Bai Ye said, her voice not loud, but in the quiet alley, every word was as clear as nails being hammered.

The man in black was completely enraged by those words.

He let out a low roar, pushed off with his feet, and charged towards Bai Ye like a cannonball, the dagger in his hand transforming into an impenetrable net of blades. His swordsmanship suddenly doubled in speed, each strike carrying the hatred of wanting to tear the boy before him to pieces.

Bai Ye barely dodged the first two blows, then grabbed the wrist holding the knife with her other hand—she got it!

But the strength was insufficient to lock him down. The man in black delivered a powerful elbow strike to Bai Ye's shoulder with his left hand, causing Bai Ye to kneel on one knee. The gravel crunched beneath his knee, and the sand on the ground dug into his flesh.

"Is that all you've got? You think you're even worthy of being in Pokong?" The man in black circled around to face him, watching his stubborn attempt to stand up, a harsh sneer escaping his throat. Every word seemed to have been pulled from a muddy swamp, so filthy it could drip venom. "No, that's not quite right—you didn't get into Group A based on your skills, you got in based on your face. Fu Qiu was right, you're just a rag to be played with. It's just that your captain is too ruthless, so no one dares to touch you. I've long wanted to see—what it's like to have Li Mo protect like the apple of his eye."

He raised the dagger, its tip aimed at Bai Ye's chest. Moonlight seeped in through the cracks at the alley entrance, condensing into a cold spot on the dagger's tip, illuminating the face hidden behind the black cloth in a half-light, making it look like a monstrous demon crawling out of hell.

"I'll cut your head off and hang it at his door, then I'll see if he's still so fierce. Then I'll send your body back piece by piece—let those guys in Group A see what their precious Bai Ye is like in the end."

The knife tip fell.

Bathed in moonlight and filled with murderous intent, it pierced straight towards Bai Ye's heart.

Then it stopped.

It wasn't that the man in black stopped on his own. It was that the moment the knife pierced flesh, it encountered resistance it shouldn't have.

A person stood in front of Bai Ye.

Bai Ye knelt on the ground and raised his head. The alley was too dark, and he could only see a back view—a training uniform, broad shoulders, a back as taut as an iron wall, and legs like two steel stakes nailed to his front.

The dagger pierced the man's right forearm from the outside, the tip going through the muscle and protruding a short distance from the inside. The gleaming white blade was covered in blood, gleaming coldly in the moonlight. Blood trickled down the blade, dripping onto Bai Ye's knee, warm.

The man stood motionless between the blade's tip and the white night, as if the knife hadn't struck him at all.

The man in black's pupils constricted sharply, and he reached for his knife.

Before he could exert any force, a bloodstained hand had already gripped his wrist holding the knife.

The force of that hand was astonishing, as if it were being clamped by hydraulic clamps, the bones making a faint creaking sound under the pressure. Then he heard the crisp sound of his wrist bones breaking, the sound exceptionally clear in the quiet alley, like a dry twig being snapped in two.

The man in black let out a suppressed scream, staggered back two steps, and crashed into the alley wall. He clutched his crushed wrist, glanced in horror at the figure blocking Bai Ye's path, and without even picking up the dagger that had fallen to the ground, turned and vaulted over the low wall at the end of the alley, disappearing in a disheveled state into the darkness.

The person who stood in front of Bai Ye did not give chase.

He stood there, the dagger still embedded in his right arm, the blade piercing through the muscle of his forearm, the tip protruding from the inside. Blood trickled down his wrist, dripping onto the gravel and pooling into a small dark red puddle in the moonlight.

He glanced down at his wound and frowned. There was no pain or fear in that frown, only a faint sense of disgust—this wound would probably require dozens of stitches and waste several days of training time.

Then he turned around and reached out with his uninjured hand to Bai Ye, who was still kneeling on the ground. Moonlight streamed in from the alley entrance, falling on his profile.