Sci-fi Mercenary นิยาย & เรื่องราว

(The world pauses entirely around her for a moment as she seems to be gathering energy and attempting to focus on her powers despite screaming frantically. Narrator: "So I can only imagine you're wondering how we got to this point, because this seems like a pretty tumultuous situation. So let's back it up a bit and explain a few things. First off: Hi! I'm your narrator, Kimora Sylvaburn." (The screen does a close up on her falling screaming face.) "Yeah that's totally me there... messed up situation huh? The last time we did this you guys kind of got a bit of a rushed story about us. That's my fault. The snack was tasty so I ate the whole thing without leaving a second thought. This time aro

“That’s why I’m still alive.” I walk closer, sizing him up. Broad shoulders, faded tattoos across his arms. His clothes smell of old blood and gunpowder. A mercenary. One of the infamous ones whispered about in packs. Hunters who kill anything supernatural for the right price. “You’re late,” I say, my voice sharp. “And you’re desperate,” he replies, leaning back. “Desperate men pay better.” My claws twitch at my sides, but I force them to retract. I can’t kill him. Not yet. “Do you even know who I am?”

“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.

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."

Tonight, blood debts demanded alliance. The SUVs rolled to a stop, engines grumbling low like caged beasts. Doors opened. Men stepped out—mercenaries, pale-eyed, movements deliberate, weapons slung low but not forgotten. They carried themselves with the quiet of wolves who’d killed too many times to need to posture. Then Marek emerged.

Doing so would be a waste. Thus, the crew members of White Snake were safe for the time being. Snow Fenner was still suspended in the air. Fear had consumed her entire being. She found herself incapable of understanding why so many people suddenly showed up to lay claim to her life. And, what was this eighteen billion-dollar bounty they were talking about, anyway? “Panthera, your Leopard Mercenary Corps is the world’s top mercenary regiment. There are many heavy firearms in the corps. “And every time you guys go on a mission, you have to bring all your machine guns, rocket launchers, and Gatling guns. What’s going on today?

The driver was gone. He moved to the passenger side. The door was crumpled, but through the shattered window, he saw a man groaning. He was dressed in tactical gear—black Kevlar, no insignia. A mercenary. Lucian didn't offer help. He jammed the barrel of the revolver into the man’s broken shoulder. The man screamed, his eyes snapping open. "Who sent you?" Lucian demanded, his voice barely a whisper over the rain. The mercenary coughed, blood bubbling on his lips. He looked at Lucian not with fear, but with a strange, professional resignation. "He said... you’d be... sentimental."

"Oh? If not the military, then who did you bring in?" Xavier snorted. "My reach and influence aren't something those amateurs hired by the Goldings can compare to. This time, I've got the Blood Wolf Mercenaries from the Srovika Federation. Sure, a few of their grunts got taken out, but their deputy commander, Andarov Markovic, hasn't even made a move yet. "He and I go way back—saved each other's lives before. Now that a few of his men have been killed, Andrew has become his personal revenge project."

Wilbur dodged the attack and looked at Yannick coldly. Yannick was stunned. He did not expect Wilbur to be so agile. The security guards immediately disabled the safety lock and aimed at Wilbur. Sophie quickly said, "Don't shoot! We'll do it!" Yannick scoffed coldly and walked around Wilbur, commenting slowly, "Nice moves." "I was a mercenary, so I can handle you people." Wilbur did not lie. Technically, he was a mercenary, and he also founded the famous Abyss Mercenaries.

Li Mingze stared at Yang Xiao and sneered, “What? Death God’s highness, you think you can leave tonight? Captain Robert!” Li Mingze looked at the white man leading them. This white man was the leader of this group of mercenaries, from Europe and America, and his name was Robert. “Kill him!” Captain Rodriguez’s hawk-like gaze locked onto Yang Xiao. Stomp! Stomp! The next moment, two mercenaries stepped forward with AK47s in their hands and aimed at Yang Xiao. “We’re done for! Regardless if he’s a Death God or not, this guy is done for. As strong as the humans are, they won’t be able to withstand these weapons!” One of them exclaimed.