Samurai was used to this. He took off his rucksack, laid all the equipment inside out on the bed, changed into a training uniform, and began sorting through his gear.
It was their habit to replace and replenish any worn-out equipment as soon as they finished a mission, ensuring they could deploy at a moment’s notice.
I had nothing to do and didn’t know what I should be doing, so I just stood to the side and watched him.
“If I were you, I’d lie down and get some sleep instead of standing there spacing out. You don’t have much time left,” Samurai said suddenly.
“I’m afraid the bed will collapse while I’m asleep!” I glanced at the flimsy wooden boards and thought of the Orc’s massive frame. He surely couldn’t sleep on a bed like this.
“Come on, Brother. We’re here to fight, not vacation. Having a place to sleep during wartime is already a blessing from God. We shouldn’t complain about it.” Samurai wasn’t scolding me; he was reminding me.
“Fine, but I don’t feel like sleeping right now. When does my training start? I can hardly wait.” During all those days on the ship, I’d done nothing but eat and sleep. Now that we’d finally come ashore, how could I possibly feel like sleeping?
“It’s not something to look forward to, trust me. It’ll make you wish you were dead.” Samurai looked at me as if he were trying to save a lost lamb.
“Is it really that bad? The way you put it makes me want to try it even more. By the way, who’s paying that fifty thousand?”
“Damn, God! Save his sinful soul! Amen!” Samurai solemnly made the sign of the cross before him.
“Tch!” I rolled my eyes and muttered, “You’re the one covered in blood. You’re the one who needs saving.”
Just then, Goddess walked in carrying a pile of equipment and tossed it onto my wooden bed.
“What’s all this?” I asked curiously.
“It’s all for you. See if it fits!” Goddess stood to the side with her hands on her hips.
I went over and took a look: a tactical rucksack, two sets of jungle camouflage, a special-operations combat vest, a pair of jungle combat boots, a military helmet, and a sealed black bag. I’d thought it contained some kind of secret equipment, but when I opened it, I found five pairs of dark green boxer briefs.
“Heh, you really thought of everything,” I said with a helpless laugh.
“Don’t worry, they’re all one-size-fits-all. They’ll definitely fit!” Goddess winked.
“Thanks a lot!” I rolled my eyes.
After rummaging through everything, all I found was military clothing. There wasn’t a single weapon. What was I supposed to fight with?
“Don’t you think you should get me a weapon?” I looked at Goddess.
“We have our weapons custom-made by the Inventor. You can go see him, but that guy’s a greedy crook. If you don’t have any money, he might throw you out.” Goddess spread her hands.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” I felt the wallet in my pocket. I should still have two hundred yuan in cash, though I had no idea what that would buy.
“Simple. Pass the training test, claim your reward, and then you can buy whatever equipment you like.” Goddess shrugged.
“So that fifty thousand US dollars is for buying equipment for a new recruit like me?”
“You could put it that way!” Goddess nodded.
“Damn, what kind of army is this? You have to buy your own weapons!” I was speechless.
“There are plenty of AK-47s outside. Take one if you want. They’re free.” Samurai glanced at me.
I looked at the modified G36 assault rifle in his hands. All those high-tech attachments practically radiated money.
I understood. If I wanted a weapon of my own, I’d have to earn the money for it first.
A gun was a soldier’s second life, especially for mercenaries. They didn’t have standard-issue weapons; everyone outfitted themselves according to personal preference. Each person’s weapon had its own distinctive features. It was not only comfortable to use, but also a symbol of identity.
For example, a cross was engraved on the stock of Samurai’s G36 assault rifle. It was his totem. If he were ever blown to pieces, the gun could help us identify him. If the gun was there, he was alive; if the gun was gone, he was gone.
After Goddess left, I took off my clothes and changed into the Undertaker’s military uniform. I had to thank Goddess for her thoughtfulness; it fit me perfectly.
Military uniforms were amazing things. The moment I put one on, I felt like a different person. I straightened up without even thinking, and even my gaze seemed sharper.
I took out the armband bearing the symbol of the Undertaker Mercenary Group and fastened it to my arm. It showed a skull with a dagger driven into its crown—a symbol that struck terror into the mercenary world.
“Well? Do I look like one of your comrades?” I slung on my rucksack and turned around in front of Samurai.
“You’re still missing something,” he said after a moment’s thought.
“What?” I looked down at myself.
“Bloodlust. And the smell of blood.” He leaned closer and sniffed.
“Damn, I’d rather do without those!” Though I’d somehow become a Mercenary, I’d never killed anyone. I didn’t know what it felt like, but I did know that the smell of blood wasn’t pleasant.
“The battlefield will give them to you soon enough.” Samurai smiled meaningfully.
The Undertaker’s dinner was far more lavish than I’d imagined. I thought we’d be lucky to get a piece of bread in a place like this, but we had fragrant roast meat and huge cans of beer. Of course, we’d paid for it all ourselves. Government forces soldiers didn’t get to enjoy such luxuries.
The Captain specially got me a huge piece of beef and reminded me to eat as much as I could, because there wouldn’t be anything to eat after this.
Seeing everyone’s gleeful expressions, I didn’t take it to heart at all. I’d live and work, or die trying. Whatever happened, happened.
Back in school, I’d thought I could hold my liquor. I could put away eight or ten beers without a problem. But after seeing these beasts drink, I realized I belonged at the kids’ table.
Goddess got carried away drinking and took off her jacket, then played drinking games with the Orc in just a strapless top. Their shouts echoed across half the camp. It was hard to imagine how her flat stomach could hold a whole keg of beer—forty pounds of it.
Even more outrageous was Angel. Maybe she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in too long. At the height of her excitement, she sat on Demon’s lap and kissed him passionately. If the Captain hadn’t kicked them apart, they would’ve put on a live show right there.
Of everyone there, only two hadn’t gotten drunk: the Captain and Ghost, the sniper Demon had said was as renowned as the Dragon King.
Just as his name suggested, he was a cold and aloof man, radiating an eerie, sinister aura. His eyes in particular were like a venomous snake’s, constantly revealing murderous intent.
He was also the only comrade who hadn’t exchanged a single word with me.
Perhaps because of his profession, a sniper had to keep a clear head at all times, so he wouldn’t allow himself to get drunk unless he was somewhere absolutely safe.
I lay sprawled over the table, watching them celebrate through bleary, drunken eyes. A faint warmth stirred in my heart. I’d never felt anything like it in all my loneliness. Maybe that was the bond of brotherhood.