The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations Novel Novels & Stories

In the next moment, he appeared behind the mercenaries. The mercenaries were still running while grinning. The young man stood there and looked up at the giant black warship in the sky, frowning. Just then, the mercenaries stopped running in shock. When they turned around, one of them suddenly screamed in horror. The mercenary saw the bodies of his companions breaking into pieces like carrots cut by a sharp knife... He was no exception. When these mercenaries died, they still didn't know how they died. "The Snow Province is mine. Without my permission, no one shall try to destroy it," the white-haired and white-browed young man muttered to himself. Then, he slowly pulled out the long sword h

If he remembered our previous life, how would I make my third move? … When I first bragged to Wesley, I said that it would take only three moves to reclaim what should have been his if he worked with me. After I died horribly in my previous life, I could never allow Harry to comfortably inherit the Grant family fortune, let alone allow him to control the Grant Corporation himself. I had people monitor the hospital. Harry had already awakened and seemed normal. The Grant family remained stable. Harry stopped demanding that the engagement be called off and postponed his wedding to Nessa.

“The same ones who’ll burn your friends next.” And that— that was when the pieces clicked, jagged and cold in his chest. This wasn’t random. It wasn’t bandits. Someone wanted the Mercers silenced. Someone who knew they had sided with the crown. Rowan swung again, desperate, but his arm gave out. The world tilted. His sword slipped from his hand, the metal ringing out against stone as he fell to one knee. He saw the blade rise over him — the reflection of the moon in its curve —

He gently stroked my cheek, his eyes surging with a millennium of deep affection: "I always wanted to swallow North American territory. Years ago, a spy I planted sent back a magic recording." "In the recording, a human girl braved the danger of hunter's silver blades to drag a dying, low-level guard out of a death swamp trap." I froze. "That guard was..." "Marcus. My undercover agent." Cassian smiled. "You told him: 'In my eyes, no life is cheap. You must live.'" "And in that moment, a heart that had been silent for a millennium... pounded." He stared into my eyes and said seriously: "When I learned you were bound by a contract and suffering humiliation, I swore that even if I had to tear u

The year was 2042, and the world was breathing for the first time in a century—but it was a ragged, fearful breath. The "Great Reboot" had dismantled the monopolies, and the "Pacific Protocol" had restored the soil, but a vacuum in power is a magnet for the extreme. In the absence of the Thorne-Vance ledger, a new philosophy had taken root in the scorched remains of the industrial centers. They called themselves Mercury, and their gospel was simple: To save the soul of the species, we must murder the machine.

Seraphine’s POV The first wave retreated before midnight. I stood near the ruined watchtower overlooking the southern ravine while the surviving fighters regrouped below. Smoke drifted through the forest from Ironfang’s border line, carrying the scent of blood, wet earth, and failure. Not a complete failure. But not enough. One of the mercenaries limped toward the fire pit holding his side. “Their defenses adapted faster than expected.” I didn’t answer immediately. Because I already knew why.

The third opens the door and he ducks inside. Mercenary Four: Move! He sees Sashawna and walks over. Mercenary Four: Leave the girl. Sashawna peers at the man, eyes brimming with emotion. Sashawna Reid: I cah leave her here. She will die in dis place with all the snakes and wild animal running round.

So basically, even if he reported it, they would only think that he made up things and that he was just afraid and so. It may cause more unwanted attention to himself which already made him so sick. And they might suggest to him to hire mercenary to help him accomplished the mission. However, Yman was not a money bag. He was in a tight situation financially. Hiring mercenary would come with a price that depends on the mercenary rank. "Heh!" He scoffed after seeing the new name that appeared above the enemy's health bar. Noble Rat was written in an exchange for the Evil Rat. He was sure that right now, this enemy had already evolved into a Wanderer rank D+ beast.

I whispered, though only the empty air received the truth I had not dared say. Bella's My fist locked around the knife made my emerald eyes glow as I leaped, my red coat in tatters now after Gabriel stole a piece of it, my training in how to dart around enemies from escaping Victor kicking in as I got closer to him. Lena Voss was limp, trembling behind the bed, her shrieks echoing in the face of the mercenaries’ grunting barks. My blade flashed, as I removed a weapon from one’s grasp, his wrist gushing, yet another seized my arm, jerking hard. I headbutted him, my eyes blurring as my world lost focus, only to have something punch into my neck, the prick sending noxious ice through my veins.

We ate our meagre soup in silence, the air thick with feigned despair. At eight o’clock, the heavy steel bolt on the door screeched open. A man I hadn’t seen before, mid-thirties, with dull brown hair and tired eyes, pushed the slop bucket inside. He was unremarkable, dressed in the same uniform as the others, but without the hard-edged military bearing. He was just a mercenary, a cog in Mia’s machine, clearly there for the money, not the cause. Perfect. He avoided our eyes, clearly uncomfortable with the silent, despairing tableau of women inside.