Novel & Cerita Life Of A Mercenary

“We're done here, let's go check on the patient, call your girl up, find out how far she is, Venus needs to get an I.V up.” Mercy washes up her hands while she talks to me and I pull on my cut and rip the rest of my sleeve from my arm off. Mercy used to be a nurse for the military before she decided her life belonged in the field, not caring for the injured. She became our eyes and ears, got a shit straw of luck when her in-tel got her sister and team dead. Now she hides her pain and hurt behind her nosy ways and optimistic but lethal attitude toward life. She is one of the few of us in the club that has retired from the special ops. And maybe the only one who didn't let that life alter the

We lost everything. During my time in the organization, I endured unimaginable hardships. Only the strong were deemed worthy of survival. We were subjected to relentless training day and night until our bodies surpassed their limits. After five grueling years, my high IQ led to an opportunity. I was given a choice: serve as a foot soldier for twenty years or become a mercenary for five years to shorten my time with the organization. I opted to join a mercenary group as their strategist and doctor. Following my training and accepting missions, I tried to locate my parents, with whom I had never been close, even as a child. They were always preoccupied with their careers, but it was bearable b

While they are still hatching ways to kill me in their minds, I must already run towards them to kill them or run away to not be killed by them! This same love for speed was what allowed him to survive two years ago under the siege of so many mercenaries and co-system users when he defected from the organization. Several days ago too, were it not for this, that pervert Aljur would have killed him already when he ambushed him together with more than a hundred armed mercenaries and hitmen.

The cold, rushing wind whipped into the office, blowing papers, files, and dust everywhere. I stepped right up to the very edge of the broken window. I kept my arm extended straight out into the freezing night. I was holding him dangling out of the shatt Hands clawed desperately at my arm, scratching deep red lines into my skin. “Noah! Pull me in! Please! I will give you anything you want!” he cried out. His legs kicked wildly over the empty space, and his expensive shoes almost slipped off into the dark. I looked at him dangling there. He was crying and begging like a total coward. I held his entire life in my single hand. If I just opened my fingers, he would fall for a long, long time. I

“Sir trust me when I said I don't know much, I was a top criminal in the city but my cousin took me in and gave me the option to work for the black mercenaries organization, promising me a very good pay and a better life rather than my criminal life I was living in the city” Sergie said as he started speaking, this time his voice gradually became steadier “seeing that it was a nice deal I had to take it” “At the time it felt like the smartest decision of my life sir” his eyes lowered.

（William’view） After leaving Chicago, I went back to the only life I truly knew. The life of a mercenary. Five years of comfort hadn't dulled my instincts. It was like a blade that had been kept in its sheath—once drawn, it was sharper than ever. I wasn't William Windemere anymore. I was 'Ghost' Noah, the king of mercenaries who called the shots in the black market. I reveled in it. The adrenaline of calculating trajectories in a firefight, the steady rhythm of my own heartbeat on a stealth op. This was the real me. A man who lived on the edge of a knife.

“It called me three weeks ago. Said the team was compromised. That you, Joel, were going to sacrifice me to save yourselves. I believed it. God help me, I believed it.” Joel’s expression hardened, but a flicker of pain crossed his features. “And now here you are. Another proxy in its war.” The second mercenary suddenly laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “You think you’re winning? IZO44 has hundreds of us. Some know what they’re doing. Most don’t. It’s building an army you can’t see coming.”

But when the time came for real brutality, they would all be reduced to clinging whelps running from an apex predator when they discovered my bestial rage. No, their pathetic bluster would not do much to counter the power I had unleashed. "Mercenaries," I spit out, looking at Sienna, like a curse through gnashed fangs. The best freelance warmongers and sellswords from throughout the realms. They were raised only to inflict uncontrolled destruction upon anyone who arouses their wrath, so expect no mercy from them."

As soon as I walked in, about a dozen blades were aimed at me. “Halt!” a voice growled. I dropped to one knee in the sand, gasping dramatically. “Don’t shoot. Please, I’m just a mercenary! Just looking for coin! I need work.” Before I knew it, four scouts surrounded me. I could see the suspicion in their eyes. I expected this. A tall man stepped forward. I could tell he was a sergeant by the shoulder plating. One of his eyes had a deep scar. “You’ve got guts, walking in like that.” He said “Or you’ve got a death wish.”

he said. I laughed then, a short snort of disbelief. Mercenaries. I guess I have to say the person behind this was through. He or she did not want to be traced back. I have to say it was a smart move but also a careless move as well. But then again mercenaries were professionals and very smart at least the ones I have encountered. They did not take jobs that put them on the radar of people like me. They did not, as a rule, reach into the life of someone close to me and pluck them like a weed.