Novel & Cerita Life Of A Mercenary

Almost everything about him popped up. Single, runs successful businesses, highly sought after, seen out with models, beautiful women, loves football games, plays hockey, and works out. At his young age, he’s become one of the youngest billionaires, and it seems like he’s done it all on his own. If he’s so rich, why does he want to take what’s mine? My father, Andres, adopted me when I was only five years old. My parents died in a car accident, and I was left alone, begging for food in restaurants, even scraps, just to fill my little belly. I’m more than grateful to Mr. Andres for adopting me, educating me, and putting me in charge of his businesses. I can’t let some upstart ruin all of this

Fred asked. ‘Better than before.’ Mark wrote down. “That’s great.” Fred said. Mark, an ex-mercenary, he got posted to the army and served for a while before being released dishonourably and thrown into jail for disobeying a direct command. Upon release, he got a job by political aspirants as a mercenary in taking down their rivals. He had completed lots of jobs and was paid well but got tired of killing people for a living. Fortunately, he came across Fred, who was hiring at that time, and he talked to him. They worked something out, and Mark was put through a series of test to test his loyalty, to which he passed. Mark had become a main part of the team ever since then and had enough experi

He could not help but feel a little angry. Immediately afterward, he said arrogantly, “Ten Thousand Armies is a mercenary organization that has gathered all of the top mercenaries in the world together. Many of our soldiers are soldiers who have served in the special forces in their countries. More than half of Hamed’s soldiers are illiterate. So, how can this possibly be the same thing? The difference between these two is even bigger than the difference between the United States and Zimbabwe!”

“You’d think they have nothing better to worry about.” I glance around— he isn’t wrong. Most of them have fresh scars, tense shoulders, and eyes that flicker every time someone walks behind them, yet they laugh like everything’s perfect. That’s the thing about mercenaries—they live messy lives, but for some reason they still find a way to make everything look like a celebration.

"You know Juno... She's a real Outlands mercenary, born and raised, spending her entire life crawling through danger and killing." Andrew quickly nodded. "I completely respect Juno's wishes." The unspoken rule in the Outlands was harsh for mercenaries. They were typically considered dirty and disposable. Factions would use them when convenient and discard them just as easily, sometimes even eliminating them without a second thought. Many mercenaries, despite accumulating vast wealth and making countless sacrifices, would never achieve a peaceful retirement. As the others left, Andrew hesitated before approaching Nyx. "What do you think?" Nyx softly replied, "I don't know."

“And you? Did you have a choice to, uh, join this brotherhood?” “It was the only choice I made for myself. I was forced into the lifestyle at a young age. A few of us were given the opportunity to venture out because of an alliance with a powerful Alpha Prince.” He didn’t say any more, and I was curious, but the tone in his voice told me he wasn’t accepting questions. “What is your job title exactly?” “Mercenaries, for lack of a better term. We’re highly trained, and it’s all we knew. The fighting, the killing, but at least now we get to choose who we do it for. We’ve been using our services to help right some of the imbalance that we created.”

By then, he could easily take action against the Chasez family. Therefore, ultimately, it did not matter whose hands Tyrant died in. Besides, Tyrant seemed to be a man of many evils. In reality, not everyone in the mercenary world was a bad guy. Many of the tasks the mercenaries took on were jobs similar to what a bodyguard would do. They would just need to protect the safety of their employer. This was like the small team Paul and his men used to be in. “Thank you, Captain!” Killer exclaimed excitedly.

“Please, please spare me!” The human male screams as his body is slammed against the bark of a tree, miles far from the werehouse, hidden in a darkness, past the dirt roads. The man's hands were barely left with three fingers as Draven showed no mercy in his torture, leaving the human male in agony as he pleaded for mercy. “Who are you people?” He raged, “Tell me.” “Ok, ok please, I’ll talk,” he cries as Draven bobs his hands, reaching for his third finger. “We are mercenaries, human mercenaries working for Silas Carson, the hunter,” he mutters.

"We are gonna show them that we hit where it hurts the most." "And what if they catch her?" Asked Jack. A young quite slender guy who had a scar on his right cheeck. He was an ex millitia and later own became a free lance mercenary. Some time back like three years ago he was bieng hunted by money laundering cartels after blackmailing them. He managed to kill three quarter of the team that was sent after him thus proving excellent survival capabilities. "Thats what we actually want. With that they will waste their time on a wild goose chase while we get more time to do our work. Simple as it gets", came Lucas's reply with a grin on his face.

"She's a former sniper, dishonorably discharged, and was recently a suspect in a case down in Columbia along with this character." Once more the screen changed. A dark eyed man with tousled hair was captured walking down a street, facing a camera. "Damian Naraujo, who lives in El Paso. Naraujo on the surface is just a computer consultant, but we know of him because of his work in South America. He's a mercenary, people or companies hire him to take out competitors in emerging markets. Mostly tech, but he'll do anything for anyone at the right price." "And you think he's related all because of a dead body?" Priscilla wasn't sure she bought that. It was a leap. A big one.