Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

The last item in the recruit assessment was grenade throwing.

After Instructor Zheng left, Company Commander Zhou temporarily took over as the examiner for the grenade throwing test. He stood next to the grenade throwing area, holding a record board in his hand, his expression more serious than usual—it was the last test, and he didn't want any more accidents to happen.

Lu Xiao stood to the side of the first squad's formation, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze swept across the recruits' faces, finally settling on Qian Duoduo and Zhao Xiaohu.

"Qian Duoduo, Zhao Xiaohu, come here for a second."

The two men exchanged a glance, reading the same premonition on each other's faces—they were doomed. They hesitantly stepped out of the line and stood before Lu Xiao.

"You two," Lu Xiao said in a low voice, making sure only the two of them could hear, "this is the last project today. Bomb throwing, it looks simple, but if something goes wrong, it's no joke. Live-fire throwing, pull the pin, the safety clip springs, four-second delay—if you slip, twist your ankle, or go off course in those four seconds, the consequences won't be solved by just writing a self-criticism."

Qian Duoduo nodded quickly, her pace as fast as a chick pecking at rice.

"Don't worry, squad leader. I practiced my grenade throwing technique for an hour last night, simulating it with a pillow in the dorm. My form is absolutely perfect—"

"Pillow," Lu Xiao repeated.

Qian Duoduo choked for a moment.

"You practiced grenade throwing with a pillow, and then you tell me your form is absolutely perfect?"

Qian Duoduo opened her mouth as if to explain something, but finding that she couldn't, she obediently closed it.

"Zhao Xiaohu, last time you accidentally discharged your gun while holding it, almost hitting someone." Lu Xiao's smile was still on his face, but every word he spoke carried a chilling seriousness. "This time, if you throw anything you shouldn't have—"

"No, no, no," Zhao Xiaohu shook his head like a rattle drum. "Squad leader, you can rest assured. I will definitely behave properly this time. Pull the pin, throw the grenade, and not make a single mistake."

Lu Xiao stared at them for three seconds, then patted them on the shoulders, his smile returning to its standard curve.

"Alright, go ahead. Throw it well, don't embarrass Class 1."

The two men, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, jogged back to the queue.

The bomb-throwing assessment will be conducted in order of student ID number.

Most people's scores were between 35 and 45 meters, and four people barely reached the excellent line, all around 50 meters.

It's Qian Duoduo's turn now.

He walked to the grenade throwing area and picked up a training grenade from the ammunition box.

He gripped the cartridge and pulled the pin.

The sound of the fuse snapping open was very soft, but to Qian Duoduo it sounded like someone had struck a bell next to his ear. He turned to the side, took a step back, and swung his arm—the movements were indeed the ones he had practiced with a pillow last night, and the posture was indeed quite standard, but the way he exerted force was completely wrong.

He had intended to throw it straight ahead, but the trajectory of the projectile was clearly off-target—not just slightly off, but nearly forty degrees, flying towards the right side of the throwing area. Ten meters to the right, in the safe zone, sat two recruits waiting to be thrown. One of them was tying his shoelaces, completely unaware that a projectile was hurtling towards him in a parabolic trajectory.

When the grenade flew through the air, everyone's heart skipped a beat.

Lu Xiao reacted even faster than the safety officer. He noticed the trajectory had veered off course when the projectile reached its highest point, and with a burst of speed, he lunged forward, grabbing the recruit tying his shoelaces by the back of his collar and pulling him aside. The projectile landed, bounced on the gravel, rolled twice, and came to a stop.

Then it exploded.

Qian Duoduo stood rooted to the spot, his face as white as a freshly painted wall. His hand remained frozen in mid-air, still in the throwing motion, and his lips moved several times before he could utter a sound: "I—I didn't—my hand slipped—"

After pulling the person to a safe location, Lu Xiao straightened up, brushed the pebbles and dirt off his knees, and glanced in Qian Duoduo's direction. He didn't say anything, just took a deep breath and then looked away.

Next up is Zhao Xiaohu.

Standing at the bombing line, Zhao Xiaohu's mind was a jumble of Lu Xiao's words and Qian Duoduo's mistake. He told himself not to be nervous, but the more he told himself not to be nervous, the more nervous he became. His fingers started sweating, and even the anti-slip texture of the grenade felt slippery. He pulled the pin decisively, though. The safety latch popped open, and the four-second countdown began.

Then his brain short-circuited.

He held the pin in his right hand and the grenade in his left, then he did something he couldn't explain himself—he threw the pin in his right hand away, while the grenade remained firmly in his left hand.

The pull ring traced a small parabola in the air, landed on the ground two meters in front of the bombing zone, bounced twice, and then lay quietly on the gravel.

The grenade was still in his left hand.

The fuse has popped open. The four-second countdown is ticking away rapidly.

Zhao Lei stood three meters to Zhao Xiaohu's right, and his instincts, honed by years of service, made the judgment faster than his brain could.

He saw the grenade still in Zhao Xiaohu's hand, and the safety pin that had already been deactivated. He rushed forward with lightning speed, grabbing Zhao Xiaohu's wrist with his left hand and twisting it upwards, while snatching the grenade from Zhao Xiaohu's sweaty palm with his right hand. He turned, twisted his waist, and swung his arm—the whole sequence of movements was executed in one smooth motion.

The grenade was thrown with tremendous force, flying towards the target trench in a near-straight trajectory, tumbling in the air and drawing an arc before exploding above the target trench.

Quiet.

The entire bombing range was silent for at least five seconds.

Zhao Lei released Zhao Xiaohu's wrist, took a step back, and gasped for breath.

It wasn't from being tired, it was from being scared.

He served in the army for eight years and participated in no fewer than a hundred grenade throwing training sessions. He had seen people slip and miss, and had seen people twist their ankles and fall down, but this was the first time he had ever seen someone throw a grenade with the pin pulled and still hold it in their hand.

Lu Xiao stood on the sidelines, his lips twitching.

He still had a smile on his face, but that smile had nothing to do with any joy anymore—it was a smile that said, "I warned you in advance, but I still underestimated your creativity."

He shifted his gaze from Zhao Xiaohu and began scanning the entire bombing range, as if checking if there were any other unexpected surprises lurking in the shadows.

Company Commander Zhou's whistle blew, the sound a full octave louder than before. He strode to the front of the grenade throwing area, looked at Zhao Xiaohu, then glanced at Qian Duoduo, who was still sitting on the ground in the safe zone behind him, and hesitated for several seconds before speaking.

"You guys in your class—one almost blew up his comrade with a slip of the hand, and another pulled the pin on a grenade but kept it in his hand. Did you think the first three months of recruit training went too smoothly? Want to add some drama to your last day?"

Zhao Xiaohu kept his head down, his chin almost touching his chest. Qian Duoduo stood up in the safe zone, also keeping his head down, opening his mouth several times as if to say something, but in the end only uttered a few indistinct syllables.

Company Commander Zhou stared at them for a few more seconds, then turned and walked to the record board, writing a line after each of their names. After finishing, he looked up, his voice returning to its normal assessment rhythm.

"Continue the assessment. Next—Xuan Xiao."