Teenage Mercenary Novels & Stories

Teen Hunters - 836 4837. ------ Damon stared at the black card given to him by a man named Cael. He had just finished class, and a few hours had passed since he had seen and fought that strange creature. He was going downstairs when he encountered a group of bullies. Those bullies are famous for having a strong backer; because of that, everyone they bully prefers to keep quiet rather than be expelled from school. It surprised Damon that one of them grabbed the card he was holding. “What is it, huh?”

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize. I’m happy for you, finally found yourself a partner. Introduce him to me ssometimes I would like to meet the apple of my best friend’s eye.” Eden blushed like a young maiden experiencing her first love. Tucking her wild hair behind her ear, she nodded. “Alright. I’ll let you meet each other when we’re all free.” “Is he a soldier?” Farrah couldn’t help but be curious. Eden shook her head, denying Farrah’s words. “He’s a member of a mercenary group. A Level-3 Ability-Holder.” There’s pride etched on her smile. It blinded Farrah, making her remember she had been using that smile before, too.

"I was going crazy, but I didn't show it. I waited for the right moment to execute my plan." My head is throbbing as I keep hearing all what he had endured. Why they did this to him. He didn't deserve this. Eren sighs more determinedly this time. "By the end of the third year, the favorable mission finally came. I was ordered to kill the leader mafia of the enemy gang to which they owed millions. It was to prove them that I was really one of them, to make them proud that we were all of the same blood. But I would never be able to kill someone in my life."

"To drive the pests away of course but you must be ready to pay me handsomely." Kane smiled fully then, "I think they will be happy to be driven away by you since you have a face like that." "Nah, I'm not the heir to the throne of a big company. What will they want to do with a pretty face and no money like me? Believe me, they will choose you then thousand times over me." "Then that only means you won't be able to render your services well Mr. Simon." "If you say so. Then do you mind hiring my next job?"

He fell on his knees immediately and begged me. “Please Nikolai, spare my life, I beg you. I am just a mercenary, killing your brother was nothing personal, it was just a job I was paid to do. I am sure you can understand that.” He cried out. “Oh my dear Grigoriy, don't sell yourself short like that. You are no mere mercenary, what is it they call you in the underworld again? Deadshot, right? I heard you never missed a shot twice. You are a freaking Legend, man, get up now.” I said cheerfully, helping him back on his feet as my men restrained his arms.

I guess if that was the case, she was really going to enjoy the next part of my story. "That’s right." I confirmed. "At least it did until I found them." As I spoke, memories of that day began to emerge. Before Boar’s Head was built, I worked for the mercenaries, and one of my first missions was to rid the world of the elders, since in most people’s eyes they were more of a nuisance than a blessing. At the time I was only thirteen and just managed to prove my worth, but that was all almost ruined when those assholes sent me on such a dangerous mission.

I watched him play with his opponent, turning him into a puppet with his moves. “What’s his name?” I asked. “He’s known as KILLER. He’s twenty-three years old and has been fighting since he was thirteen. He’s one of the best and never loses a fight. Makes about five million dollars for every fight,” Avim quickly reported. “Hmm…hire him.” “Boss, he also does Raffaele’s dirty work. I guess you could say he’s a mercenary.” “Hire him. I will give him thrice what Raffaele is giving him.”

“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?”

"If she truly is a tribrid, that would explain so much." Vincent says. "Like what?" "Like why several mercenaries were hired to kill her." "Wait.. what? Mercenaries? How do you know for sure?" "All mercenaries are either rogue-born or ex-pack warriors. They are rogues for hire that have no moral ground. They will accept any contract. The only thing they ever care about is money. We were able to identify them through their strong wild scent. It's a smell most rogues have, however, Mercenaries are typically more subtle, as it allows them to enter a pack without being detected."

This mission will yield forth bountiful cash which will aid us expand. “Take your seat guys. You all know why we're here today, right?” I said looking at the face of every one of them. We were all in our early twenties, yet due to the fact we were dishonorable discharged from the army for not obeying a direct order to destroy an entire village, we've bounded up to fight against terrorism as a mercenary group. “Tsk! They can't handle their own mess. Bornu has become a place of war, rather than of peace.” Risky said. He's of average height, lean and a skilled gunfighter.